


Lion Hearts - Book 1, Golden.

by li0nheart



Series: Lion Hearts, Books 1 - 8 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter - Marauders era
Genre: Childhood Friends, First War with Voldemort, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, Prequel, Rise of Voldemort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 95,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/li0nheart/pseuds/li0nheart
Summary: Book 1 follows a young girl, the Marauders and their friends through their first year of school.Hogwarts is imbued with secrets - the old stone holds centuries of whispers, that echo enticingly through the halls. Verity Wilde plans to get to the bottom of as many mysteries as she can manage. Her first year is dogged by cryptic dreams, and the curious case of the Haunted House. Plus, one of her friends is hiding something, and she can't seem to shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong with him.The First Wizarding War rages beyond the castle walls - students are disappearing, families are fleeing the country, and the Dark Lord is steadily gaining power. A secret organisation has formed under the nose of the Ministry of Magic, to put an end to Lord Voldemort's reign of terror - but at what cost?Stay tuned to find out!The final chapter is up! 09.02.21Currently in the process of a final edit :) watch this space!If you would like to find out more about the characters, I have a tumblr dedicated to themhere.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter & Original Female Character(s), Lily Evans Potter & Original Female Character(s), Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Marauders & Lily Evans Potter, Marauders & Severus Snape, Marlene McKinnon & Lily Evans Potter, Peter Pettigrew & Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin & Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Lion Hearts, Books 1 - 8 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804060
Comments: 71
Kudos: 46





	1. A Rainy Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1, edit - 10/02/21, 18/02/21.
> 
> \- Tweaked grammar mistakes, added references to James, and added siblings - Rose, Dexter and Ted, as well as V's step-mother, Cara :)  
> \- Tweaked a few more grammar mistakes, fixed the first line. Everything's coming up Millhouse 🤩

Nestled in the heart of Yorkshire, a valley lay peacefully under a heavy blanket of trees. Within it, stood a curious little cottage, hidden almost completely from view.

The walls seemed fit to burst, sagging quite noticeably under the old thatch. The roof was misshapen - peculiar, even - accommodating too many windows of various shapes and sizes - _far too many windows_ , to the untrained eye. A tall, crooked chimney propped up one side, whilst a stout conservatory jutted from the other – the rain drops drumming a peaceful melody on the glass. Gangling plants curled up and out of skylights, and crept stealthily through open windows. Outside, wisteria clung to the uneven stone, and the garden had no end, as it trailed off in to the wilderness.

Walkers often hiked the footpath near the house, hoping to enjoy a scenic stroll in the woods. Foxglove Cottage, however, did not take kindly to uninvited guests. Should someone stray too close, they would be struck with the urgent notion that something was not quite right. For example, they ‘might’ have forgotten to lock their back door, or they ‘could’ have left the iron on. That niggling feeling grew more intense the closer they came, becoming unbearable before they had even set one foot in the vale. This clever charm had managed to keep prying eyes at bay for just over a decade.

Inside this little bubble, a young girl sat at her window, quiet and pensive. Her book, ‘A Wizard of Earthsea’ lay forgotten at her side. She watched the rain as it snaked across the forest floor, rushing to join the babbling brook that curled around her home. Lulled by the rhythmic patter, and the warbling of a distant radio, she closed her eyes.

Downstairs, her mother cooked breakfast. The enticing smells of a fry-up had wafted their way under her bedroom door, making her stomach rumble. She knew she should probably get up soon, even if there wasn’t much to do. 

The girl popped her glasses on, the round frames glinting in the artificial light. Her eyes drifted towards the calendar on her wall - ‘Monday, 26th July’. It had been exactly ten days since the Summer holidays had started, and boredom was already creeping in. Her best friend, James, was away on holiday, and wouldn’t be back for another few weeks. As if on cue, her mother called up the stairs,

“Verity, breakfast!”

She groaned, and peeled herself off of the window seat. As she passed the mirror that hung crookedly over the fireplace, her sleepy, hazel eyes drifted critically over her features. Freckles were stippled across both cheeks, and over the bump on the bridge of her snub little nose. Her long, mousey hair was knotted after a night of tossing and turning, in a style her mother would call ‘a bird’s nest’. Pulling a face, she dragged her fingers through it, in an attempt to look more presentable. 

‘There,’ she thought, ‘that’ll do.’

With one last look, she sloped off, before descending down a spindly, spiral staircase. She ignored the portraits on the wall as they bid her good morning, tipping their hats and curtseying as she made her way past. Being a witch, this was a normal occurrence - all pictures in the wizarding world interacted to some degree - the novelty wore off rather quickly.

‘Plus,’ she grumbled to herself, as she passed the window in the hallway, ‘it was _not_ a good morning. Typical English weather.’

Verity was restless. If it wasn’t raining, she’d be out exploring – climbing trees and scraping knees. She did wish she had some company, though. It was very lonely, being the only young witch in town. The cottage had frequent visitors - friends and clients of her mother's. Hardly any of them spoke to Verity, though, unless it was Alastor showing off his latest gadget. She couldn’t even visit her younger siblings, as they were on holiday with their mother, Cara, in Mallorca – Rose, Dexter and Ted had assured her they were having a whale of a time, in their individual post-cards. Verity wasn’t jealous at _all_. Most of the children from her school were already off on their ‘holibobs’, too.

‘Which,’ she reasoned, ‘was probably for the best.’

It was becoming harder and harder to explain away the seemingly random ‘happenings’ that insisted on following her about. It was probably safer at home, she supposed, as she plodded down the hall.

Only a few weeks before, one of her pencils had flown across the classroom and smacked a rude boy in the face. She’d had to think on her feet, yet again, explaining that she had been twiddling it between her fingers. Her classmates weren’t totally convinced, as usual, and her teacher hadn’t seen enough to argue. 

Considering the other bizarre situations Verity had gotten herself in to, she could tell that Miss Mack knew something was amiss. The Maths teacher had barked at the class to settle down, shooting her a long-suffering look, before turning back to the blackboard. People tend to get quite upset, when they can’t explain things away with science or logic. Verity sighed. She felt like she didn’t belong in their world at all. 

She couldn’t wait for James to come home.

***

Fenella, Verity’s mother, bustled around their cramped kitchen, humming along to the radio. It wasn’t a small space - quite the contrary - but it was bursting at the seams with clutter. Books, bell jars and bits of parchment were hastily stacked into dusty corners, or arranged haphazardly on buckling shelves. Herbs hung over the island from racks on the ceiling, along with cooking utensils and other useful items.

As Fenella swished about the room in her bell-bottom jeans, she nimbly avoided pots and pans, whizzing past her head and dropping in to the sink with a clatter. A thick, green potion bubbled on the stove, the unpleasant smell cleverly disguised by the scent of cooked bacon. 

As her daughter walked through the door, she smiled, brightly, placing Verity’s plate on the kitchen table.

“Morning! Did you sleep well?”

“No, not really – I had a bit of an odd dream.”

“Dream?” Said Fenella, her focus on the potion in front of her. As she waved her wand, the spell book on the work top flipped open, and she dragged her finger down the page, muttering to herself. Verity picked at her food, pushing it around the plate with her fork.

“Yeah – something about wolves and dragons. You know what dreams are like, they never make any sense.” Verity gestured to the gurgling cauldron, pulling a face, “what’s that? It looks…appetising.”

“Oh, this? It’s the antidote to common poisons. A special request I’m brewing for, err - a friend.”

“Eurgh, I thought as much – you’d think they’d make it less…horrid.” Verity’s nose wrinkled, as her lip curled in disgust. “Is this friend planning on upsetting an _entire_ village? That’s an awful lot to brew for one person.”

“Well, you can never be too careful.”

“…would this friend happen to be Alastor Moody?”

Verity’s mother let out a bark of laughter, “It _could_ be. You know how paranoid he is, Verity - it’s a miracle that he trusts anyone at all! Always glugging out of that silver hip flask…”

Exchanging glances, they both suppressed a snigger.

“Well, I’m sure this is going to go down well…until he assumes you’re trying to poison him, too.”

Fenella threw a look over her shoulder, tutting. As Verity tucked in to her sausages, two furry blurs streaked in through the cat flap. They mewled pitifully, like they were half-starved and desperate. 

Humphrey, a portly black cat, with a tummy lower than his legs were long, made a bee-line for Verity’s mum. He weaved himself around her in a figure of eight, causing Fenella to stumble and let out a curse. He visibly drooped when she managed to keep a hold of her plate. Humphrey’s meow always sounded either surprised, or excited. In this case, he was eager for nibbles. “Wow!” He exclaimed. Fenella threw him an amused glance, fussing the top of his head. As she gave her gloopy concoction a stir, she told him,

“You can’t be hungry, you great lump, you’ve only just had breakfast. Leave me alone, I said. Go on! Away with you.”

The girl watched as her mother added ingredients in to a large, copper pot, accompanied by loud pops and colourful puffs of smoke. A pinch of unicorn horn here, a couple of mistletoe berries there…it was fascinating. Verity’s mum was a celebrated potioneer, with her own line of potions and tonics sold in apothecaries all around the country. ‘Fenella’s Funky Brews’ were a household name, and one could often find her toiling away over her cauldron.

Her secret, she would say, was the rich soil of the Yorkshire Dales, and its abundance of ‘magical beasties’. She was in the habit of rescuing and rehabilitating creatures in need. In exchange, they would often leave a small gift on their departure. A few hairs, a couple of scales – nothing too fancy. Fenella would also take her daughter on supply runs, pointing out different plants, and reeling off their natural properties. At the age of eleven, Verity had more knowledge of the local flora and fauna than someone twice her age. Unfortunately, her mother’s green thumb seemed to have skipped a generation, as Verity was unable to grow so much as a weed.

Sensing her distraction, Verity’s tabby jumped on the table, struggling to hide behind a pile of books - at his size, it was hard to be stealthy. Archimedes was part kneazle, a feline-esque creature. He stood a head or two higher than your average tom, and twice as long. Black tufts sprouted from the tops of his comically large ears, and from the end of his lion-like tail. He slowly stuck out one, lone paw and felt around a bit, trying to hook a piece of black pudding with his claw. He failed, miserably.

“Err! Excuse you, Mister Sneaky Paw, but that’s not for you.” Said Verity, chortling as she scooped him into her arms.

As she stood up to remove the offending mog, there was a scratch at the open window. A beautiful tawny owl perched on the ledge, clutching something in its talons. Fenella, who had been chastising Humphrey for knocking over her tea cup, fell silent. An odd look passed over her face, like poorly-hidden excitement - Verity wondered what her mum was so jittery about. 

Her question was answered, almost immediately, as the owl swooped past; a thick, cream envelope, sealed with purple wax. By now, her mother was so excited, that she was visibly buzzing. She looked from Verity, to the owl, and back again. 

Coaxingly, she said, “I think that’s for you! Are you going to open it?”

Fenella was unable to contain herself, her impish grin stretched from ear to ear; her dark eyes, wide and lively. Verity shot her mum a puzzled look, taking the envelope carefully from the owl’s grasp.

Miss Verity Wilde,  
The Attic Room,  
Foxglove Cottage,  
Aysgarth Forest,  
North Yorkshire.

Flipping it over, she was greeted with the ‘Hogwarts’ coat of arms. A lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle stood boldly inside, representing the four school houses, with a banner printed in Latin below. ‘Draco dormiens nunquam tittilandus’. She remembered the meaning, from many a bed time story - ‘Never tickle a sleeping dragon’. Verity thought this was rather good advice. They had encountered one or two of these perilous beasts over the years, dwelling in caves within the valley - she knew better than to fuss one.

Her heart fluttered inside her chest, as she stared fixedly at the parchment. It had suddenly dawned on her, that this could be the ‘very important letter’ she had been waiting for. As she sat, in silent panic, she heard her mother clear her throat.

“Looks pre-tty important.” Fenella mused, airily. “I _wonder_ what it could be…hmm?” 

“Alright, alright – don’t get your robes in a bunch.”

From her tone, Verity presumed that her mum knew full-well what it was, but didn’t want to give it away. Fear mingling with excitement, she tore open the envelope with little grace. This made her mother wince. She had wanted to frame this particular bit of post, and display it proudly in their living room. Luckily, a few rips could be easily fixed.

***

As Verity’s eyes scanned the page, she let out a shriek, and sprung out of her seat.

“It’s my acceptance letter! I’M GOING TO HOGWARTS!” She howled, jumping up and down on the spot.

Fenella couldn’t hold her composure any longer, and promptly exploded with pride. She grabbed her daughter’s hands and danced with her around the table. Their squeals and laughter filled every corner of the room, in a euphony of sound. Verity beamed so hard, she glowed.

“I knew it!” Gasped Fenella, trying to catch her breath. “I _knew_ it wouldn’t be long. I had a feeling it was your letter when the owl arrived. How exciting! Just wait until nanny finds out, and your aunts…Oh, I’m _so_ proud. I must let them know! Sorry, True, let me just squeeze past-”

While her mother busied herself with the task of finding unused scraps of parchment, hidden amongst the chaos, the owl on the countertop gave a reproachful hoot. It was as if he was trying to remind Verity of his presence.

“Oops! Here.” She said, realising that he had been waiting ever so patiently for his tip.

Owlio’s were the leading brand of owl treat on the market, and Fenella had a soft spot for the postal service. “Only the best for our feathered friends”, she used to say.

Once he’d had a few titbits, he bobbed his head, as if to say ‘thanks. As he departed, Verity noticed that the weather was finally behaving itself, as rays of sunshine glimmered through the canopy. Looking down at her letter, a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through her chest.

‘ _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Wilde,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress.’

She flicked to the second piece of her acceptance package, and continued.

‘ _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)  
by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic  
by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory  
by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration  
by Emeric Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
by Phyllida Spore  
Magical Drafts and Potions  
by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them  
by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection  
by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions’

A single train ticket sat at the bottom of the tattered envelope, with ‘King’s Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾’ printed across it. 

Verity was feeling rather giddy. She exhaled softly, as she tried to make sense of her racing thoughts - she was finally going to Hogwarts! Verity had been brought up on tales of castle and its grounds, since she was knee high to a kneazle. Except, she didn’t quite know how to feel. Part of her felt excited, happy, full of anticipation…but there were also other, unexpected feelings. A part of her that said, ‘What if I’m not good enough?’ or ‘What if I don’t make any friends?’…’What if it’s all too difficult?’

Verity’s experience of school had not always been a positive one. While she had excelled academically, her record was littered with detentions and trips to the headmaster’s office. What if Hogwarts was no different? Plus, she had known most of her class since nursery, and it would be odd to venture off without them. She didn’t so much have a problem making friends, but, with all the shenanigans she found herself in, there weren’t many parents who wanted to have ‘that trouble-maker’ round for tea. 

The girls often teased her, calling her names and leaving her out, because they thought she was ‘a bit odd’. The weird girl, who lived in the forest, and made things bang with her mind. The girl who set things on fire, or broke things, without ever having to touch them. She held a bit more sway with the boys, but only because they thought she had ‘super powers’.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. That was just the nerves talking, she reasoned with herself. Plus, James would be there – she was certain of it. She imagined she’d be receiving a smug letter from him any day now.

Out in the hall, she could hear her mum’s muffled voice speaking quickly, in animated tones. After a short silence, Fenella popped her head around the door,

“Verity, could you come to the phone? Your father is on the line!”

She paused, wondering what he would make of all of this. John Wilde was a logical, reasonable man, fuelled by science and common sense. He was also a muggle, through and through - not an ounce of magic in his whole body, and very little knowledge of the subject.

When Fenella and John met, they were both studying in London – him, mechanical engineering, and her, at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts. While dating, Fenella had been forced to hide her abilities, in accordance with the Statute of Secrecy – it is strictly forbidden to use magic in front of muggles, or disclose its existence. After they had separated, Fenella came the realisation that she was expecting. She left W.A.D.A. to set up shop in the forest, and await the arrival of their ‘pleasant surprise’.

On her father’s first visit, at only a few days old, Verity had summoned a dummy from the table. John, fainted - it was time to come clean.  
While Fenella had been able to inform John of her magical abilities, the law prohibited her from sharing any of the more intricate details. They were not married, nor cohabitating, which meant he was still largely in the dark.

It had been on his insistence that Verity receive an education at the local primary school, which had its good points…and its bad ones. On the one hand, Fenella was not really known for her organisation or strict routine, so it had given Verity a more structured environment to learn the basics. On the other, John didn’t know quite what to make of her mysterious ‘oopsies’. He tried hard to understand, when the school had called him in for meetings regarding her behaviour. It was a far cry from the shenanigans his other children got up to. 

For example, Mr Booth, the Geography teacher, had decided that Verity did not set her homework on fire ‘by mistake’, she had done it ‘on purpose’, because she was ‘looking for an excuse not to finish it’. While slightly more elaborate than the usual ‘dog ate my homework’ trope, her teachers were ‘not’ going to be fooled. John was at his wit’s end. How do you say ‘I’m sorry, my daughter’s a witch and she can’t control her powers,’ without exposing the entire Wizarding World?

***

Fenella was waiting in the hallway, phone in hand. She smiled, encouragingly, and passed her the handset. The line was a bit crackly, but she heard her father’s voice say,

“Congratulations, babe! Your mum tells me you’ve received your letter for…um, Hagwarts, is it?”

Verity stifled a snicker. He wasn’t sure about all this ‘magic’ stuff, and this would be completely new territory for him. On first impression, he seemed to be handling things rather well.

“Thanks, dad. I’m so excited! I can’t wait for the Summer to be over.” There was a short silence, as she searched for the right words to say. “…At least I won’t be turning people in to toads, now, eh? Well, not by accident, anyway...they’re going to teach me how to control it. I’ll get a wand and everything!”

It may have been an exaggeration, but Verity knew she wasn’t far off. While there had not been any toad episodes - from what she could remember - some memories would make even the most open-minded muggle cringe. Verity had not only smacked that (admittedly, awful) boy in the face with weaponised stationary - she had once shattered a window, just by shouting, while arguing with her father over the infamous food fight she had started in the school canteen – accidentally, of course. She also had that penchant for levitating things to herself as a small child, some more dangerous than others. Her mother’s wand, for instance. It hadn’t gone over well; her father was stumped. How were you supposed to baby proof a house, if nothing was out of reach, and everything in it was a potential hazard? He’d had many a sleepless night. Luckily, Verity's younger siblings had shown no signs of magical ability so far - although, there were bets being taken on Ted. He had been at the centre of a few 'random happenings' himself.

John listened patiently as Verity filled him in, going through all the items on her list. Before they parted ways, Verity’s father had never accompanied her mother to Diagon Alley, or any other places within the wizarding world. His understanding of magic started, and ended, at Foxglove Cottage.

“…the letter says I’m allowed to bring a pet, too! Isn’t that great? Although, I’m not sure Archie would want to leave the cottage, or Humphrey…I’m sure mum won’t mind if we have a look for an owl! Houdini’s getting quite old, now, and mum will still need to use him when I’m away…”

Verity, who was prone to waffling, had subjected her father to a colourful wall of sound for nearly 15 minutes - and she was showing no signs of stopping. 

John took a deep breath, “Verity? – Sorry – can I - just –“

“- Yes, dad?”

He cleared his throat, and asked, tentatively, “would you - would you like me to come with you, to…diagonally?”

“It’s Diagon – Alley, dad, not diagonally!” Verity said, with a laugh. “Honestly, I think that’s a great idea - it’ll be nice for you to finally see how the ‘other side’ lives!”

Once they had said their goodbyes, John and Fenella cobbled together a plan. They would meet the next day, around one-ish, at the bookshop next door to The Leaky Cauldron. 

The pub itself was bewitched with a shielding charm, of sorts, which would make it impossible for John to find on his own. Unless in the company of wizarding folk, it looked as though the Leaky Cauldron simply did not _exist_ \- Verity couldn’t wait to see her father’s face when it appeared.

That warm, fuzzy feeling had blossomed from a tiny spark, to a pleasant glow, radiating from the top of her head to the very tip of her toes. The little girl grinned to herself, and snuck Archimedes a small bit of black pudding. He’d been very patient, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written anything in well over a decade, so I thought I'd throw myself in at the deep-end and write an entire series during lockdown. I've also written a few one-shots, feel free to check 'em out. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, lemme know what you think! Thanks - L♥ xx


	2. Goblins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, edit - 16/02/21, 18/02/21.
> 
> Tweaked grammar mistakes, added references to James, and V's siblings - Rose, Dexter and Ted - as well as V's step-mother, Cara. Added Family motto and Coat of Arms, and a few extra Scotticisms.
> 
> Fun Fact! 'Paratus Sum' means 'I am ready' in Latin. The Hayworth-Fraser Coat of Arms, and motto, are an amalgamation of Clan Hay and Clan Fraser of Lovat's. The more you know 💫🤪

The warmth of the sun, and the tickle of a cool breeze, brushed over Verity as she lay sprawled on the treehouse floor. The rope ladder danced, as a strong gust of wind blew through the trees. It blustered through the crudely cut openings on the walls, rustling posters and comic strips, as it raced through one side and out the other. It was rather slapdash, knocked together by Verity and her father a few Summers before - but, it was cosy, nonetheless.

Verity’s old toy broomstick stood propped in the corner, looking a bit worse for wear. Wooden boards creaked as she shifted her position, light pouring over the pages of the paperback gripped firmly in hand. She felt as though she had drifted away - the treehouse and the surrounding woodland disappearing, as she found herself at home in the author’s wild imagination. Archimedes was curled up beside her, thunderous purrs rolling through his chest and across the floor.

The pair had spent the morning on a grand adventure, hunting trolls in the caves near the cottage. Fortunately, all they had found were a few ingredients for her mother’s potions pantry, and a nest of knarls in a nearby glen. Her mother had a run-in with this particular gang a few years back, when they had ransacked her garden. While mostly indistinguishable from hedgehogs, they were known to be highly suspicious of humans. One might think that they were being generous, leaving out milk and cat food, but that person would be wrong. A knarl would think this kind gesture a trap of some sort, and strike when their target least expected it. In their mind, ‘offence is always the best defence’.

Verity was nearing the end of her book, and the feeling of anticipation was almost too intense to ignore - she had been plagued by it all morning. According to her watch, it was nearly time to leave for Diagon Alley. She had tried desperately to keep herself occupied; but to no avail. She was just too excited! The little girl sat up, and dropped her legs over the side of the treehouse, swinging them slowly in the breeze. As she took it all in, she smiled, contentedly. The forest seemed to be glowing, the earth awash with a dappling of gold, as the glittering creek meandered its way through the woods. The chattering of local wildlife added a dash of liveliness to the peaceful atmosphere, and she sighed, deeply. She would certainly miss waking up to this every day.

In the distance, she heard a faint voice, calling, “Verity!”

She took a long, steadying breath, and got to her feet, whistling for Archimedes to follow. One eye popped open, and he looked at her crossly. How inconvenient. He yawned, and stretched out his stiff limbs, before padding over to the side of the hut. With one, graceful leap, he was on the ground, eyeing her expectantly. She chuckled at his grumpy expression, and began to clamber down the rope ladder, two rungs at a time. They had a race to the house, the cat out-running the girl with ease, giggling breathlessly as she tried to keep up. As she reached the porch, she put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. The front door swung open to reveal her mother, whose face faltered.

“What have you been doing? Oh, Verity, you’re covered in muck! Here.” She swished her wand over her daughter, muttering a few choice words under her breath.

Grass stains, mud, and various bits of foliage lifted from her clothing, and disappeared in to thin air. With another flick of her wrist, Verity’s hair was neatly pulled back from her face. Her mother gave her the once over, and grimaced.

“That’ll do. Right, come on - inside. Your aunts will be calling any minute! Then we’ve got to meet your father…I hope he isn’t waiting too long, we’re running a bit behind schedule.” She twittered, rummaging in her handbag.

Verity grinned as her mother turned to go back in to the house, grumbling to herself as she pawed at the contents. Any moment now, it would be dumped upside down on the kitchen table.

“Aha! Got you.” Her mother cried, brandishing a pocket-sized mirror. She had a quick look, and patted the back of her hair, before shoving it back in to the depths. She straightened out her clothes, and rolled her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “We’ll have to set straight off after this. Do you need anything? A drink? The toilet? A wee snack?”

“I’ll be fine, mum – honestly!” Verity paused, eyeing the fireplace. “What time did they say-?”

With a crackle, a pop and a very loud cough, two faces appeared, flickering merrily. Most wizarding families did not own a muggle telephone, and found that using Floo was much quicker than sending an owl. One could transport just their head to any Ministry-approved hearth, as long as they had a sprinkle of Floo powder.

“CONGRATULATIONS, YOU CLEVER SAUSAGE!” Crowed Fenella’s oldest sister, Maeve.

“Yes, well done, darling! We knew it was coming, didn’t we, Mab? The letter? I was just saying the other day - I could _sense_ it.” Said her Aunty Peggy, whose tone was soft and deliberate.

“Read that in your crystal ball, did you, Peg?”

“Just because your third eye’s withered like a wee prune, dusnae mean it isnae there.” Peggy snipped, looking slightly miffed. Turning back to Verity, her face melted once more in to a dreamy smile, “Are you excited, True? I can remember my letter, like it was only yesterday…”

Mab and Fenella exchanged amused glances, as Peg began to prattle on about her school days.

***

Fenella’s older sisters were as different as chalk and cheese; one, bolshy and ambitious, with a taste for the eccentric. The other, a moon-eyed dreamer, with an air of serenity draped over her like a thick mist.

Peggy worked as the Divination Professor at Hogwarts; most of her time was spent buried in tea cups, deciphering tea-leaves, or staring in to the depths of a crystal ball. She lived in a cosy little bungalow in Hogsmeade village, a short walk from the castle, with her daughter, Athena. Peg’s partner, Corban, lived and worked in London. He had a low-level job at the Ministry of Magic, along with Maeve and her husband, Rudyard.

Maeve fought fiercely in the Magical Beings Department, writing legislation to protect races such as Vampires, Werewolves and Goblins. They lived on a quiet estate deep in the Highlands, with their young daughter, Hestia, who was their pride and joy.

Despite their differences, the three sisters often got together with their mum for a spot of Afternoon Tea; they usually packed up rather sharpish once Peg started predicting their futures, though. As they nattered away, a faint voice could be heard in the background,

“Excuse me? I’d like tae speak tae my grand-daughter, if tha’s nae awfy much trouble!”

Sheepishly, the two heads withdrew from the fire, to make room for their elderly mother. Her hair was elegantly coiffed, and her bejewelled, horn-rimmed glasses were sparkling in the firelight. Her kindly, rounded face lit up with joy, looking like the cat who got the cream.

“Ah knew you could do it, ma wee lassie. You’ve made your nanny sae proud!” She gushed, dabbing her eyes as she spoke.

“Thanks, nanny - I can’t believe I’ve still got to wait a whole month! Maybe Mab could get me one of those time-turners from the Ministry…”

Verity snickered, as she heard her aunt’s voice in the background say, “definitely not!”

As she got lost in the lilting sound of her grandmother’s voice, her heart swelled, feeling a peace wash over her. Patricia Hayworth-Fraser was Scottish, born and bred - roots spreading far and wide, from Dunfermline to John O’ Groats. She, and the many generations before her, had all attended Hogwarts, and nearly all had been sorted in to Gryffindor House. Patty proudly put it down to all the Scottish fire in their belly, making them brave and unyielding.

"Have ye heard from James yet?"

"No, not yet, but he's in France at the moment. I don't know if poor old Oswald would make it this far - he's getting on a bit now, for an owl."

"Och, I'll bet his da's pleased as punch. Ye'll both make worthy additions to Gryffindor, no doubt about it."

"Or Ravenclaw!" Came Peggy's haughty, disembodied voice - her house pride was still just as fierce, all these years on.

“Aye, right - or Ravenclaw." Conceded Patricia, with a wink. "- If you get a chance, could you please send my regards to Albus? I wis sae chuffed to hear he was running things after Armando retired. That’s a fine man, an' a fine wizard. He'll take good care o' you, dinnae you worry about that.” She assured Verity, warmly.

Behind her, her mother gasped, eyes fixed on the old wooden clock above.

“Merlin’s beard, we’ve got to go! We’re going to be late for John!”

Patty shook her head, chortling, “nae matter, my darlin’. Give us a wee call when you get home - we’ve got a few things we need tae discuss.”

Fenella smiled gratefully, and they all said their goodbyes. Maeve and Peggy popped up briefly for one last wave, and then - they were gone. Fenella lifted the lid of a floral pot on the mantel, and scattered a handful of a loose, silvery powder in to the flames. Immediately, the fire roared, filling the inside of the chimney with emerald green. The Floo Network was also a common mode of transport within the wizarding community. Wizards could transport, not just their heads, but their whole bodies from one chimney to another, with relative ease.

Verity’s mother took one, last look around the kitchen, making sure they had not forgotten anything. Fenella steeled herself, before turning to her daughter.

“Are you ready?” She asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, mum!”

“Right, then. Remember - elbows in, speak clearly, and don’t hop out until you see me at the other end. Are we clear?”

“Yes. Elbows in, speak clearly, blah blah. It’s alright, mum, we’ve done this loads of times!”

“I know, but - you will follow straight after, won’t you? If you do get lost, stay put, and don’t talk to any strangers…Oh, I’ll be having kittens on the other end!”

The little girl laughed, giving her mother a nudge.

“Come on! Dad will be waiting, and you know what he’s like. I’ll see you on the other side, okay? Promise.”

Fenella’s mouth was set in a thin line as she stepped in to the fireplace. Turning to face her daughter, she cried, “The Leaky Cauldron!” and, with one last, panicked look, she whizzed out of sight.

Verity gulped. Shakily, she took a fistful of the Floo powder, and chucked it in to the fireplace. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she was incredibly nervous. Once more, the green flames erupted, and she stepped inside. A warmth licked at her skin as she turned, keeping her mouth clamped shut. The last thing she needed was a coughing fit - one loose bit of ash, and she could end up anywhere!

She managed to blurt out, “The Leaky Cauldron!” before she felt herself start to spin, faster and faster as she whooshed up through the chimney.

***

Travelling by Floo was a stomach-turning experience, that often left one feeling queasy and disorientated. Verity watched, as living rooms and fireplaces around the country raced in to view, and away again - feeling very much like she was stuck on a merry-go-round. As the spinning started to slow, her mother’s frantically waving figure appeared. Verity stuck out her foot, and toppled out of the fireplace, straight in to her mother’s arms.

Groaning, she collapsed in to a chair beside them, holding her stomach as it gurgled unpleasantly. Her mother, who already looked spotless, waved her wand over Verity again. The debris from her daughter’s dungarees and t-shirt lifted and disappeared, before her windswept hair fell smartly back in place.

Still feeling slightly wobbly, Verity trailed behind, following her mother down a narrow hallway and through a door. She had not expected the loud, boisterous sounds of a crowded tavern, and suddenly felt very small. There were so many people! Well, ‘people’ may have been the incorrect word to use; she was pretty sure one of them had hooves.

Her mother took her hand, smiling and greeting a handful of old friends as she weaved between tables, before waving cheerfully at a small family tucked away in the corner. The parents gave a small, almost hesitant wave in return. Their son, however, seemed not to notice, with his nose stuck firmly in a tattered old book.

Underneath a mop of golden brown hair, a silvery scar ran through his left brow. Thin, rectangular frames had slipped down the bridge of his nose, and were twinkling in the candle light. As she watched him, she found herself wondering whether he would be at Hogwarts, too. She brushed the feeling off, shielding her eyes, as the old front door swung back to reveal a sunny muggle street. As she walked towards the light, she failed to notice the boy lift his head, and throw her a quizzical look.

***

A few folks milled between the bookshelves, as her mother stood on tip-toe to catch a glimpse of her father. Spotting him, she gestured towards the door, dragging their daughter back outside before she had the chance to pick anything up. (A wise decision, as Verity could be stuck in there for hours.)

The door opened once more, to reveal a man in blue jeans and an old leather jacket. His hair was thick, with a slight curl – deep, chestnut brown in colour. He smiled widely, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, as he enveloped his daughter in a bear hug. She squeaked as she was lifted off the floor, before being popped safely back on the ground.

"Aright, dad? How are Cara and the smalls?"

"Not bad, thanks, babe - did you get the post cards?"

"Aye, sounds like they're all having a wicked time! Ted's hand-writing is getting really good."

"Yeah, he's dead proud of himself, bless him. He won the short story competition this year!"

Chiming in with a warm smile, Fenella said, "ahh, that's wonderful, John! You must be so proud. What was it about?"

"Well, err, I think Vezza's stories have had a bit of an influence on him. It was about a magical school that only magical people could see - don't worry, though, _lots_ of artistic license involved. He's seven, I doubt they took him too seriously."

Holding back a snicker, Verity replied, "if he got anything less than top marks, I'll be so disappointed."

“So!” John exclaimed, clapping his hands together with a grin. “What’s the plan, ladies? Lunch first, then a bit of shopping?”

“Yes please, I’m starving!"

"You and me both, kid. Which way?"

"Come on," said Fenella, as she ambled back towards where the pub should be. "Follow me."

"Oh, I can’t wait for you to see this.” Whispered Verity, with her lopsided grin.

“See what?”

Beaming, his daughter grabbed his hand, and said, “The Leaky Cauldron!”

As she spoke, the book shop, and the record store next door, began to shake. The people inside paid no mind as the walls crunched and groaned, sliding sideways to make room for a thin, dingy little pub. Verity watched a flurry of expressions fly across her father’s face, his mouth agape as he tried to process what had just happened. He turned his attention to the people walking down the street, seemingly unaware of what had taken place right in front of them.

“Oh, they didn’t see anything.” Said Verity, nonchalantly, as she steered him towards the doorway.

"Right." He muttered, as his mind ticked over - a small frown appearing between his brows. Fenella stifled a chuckle, and guided them in to the dark depths of the pub.

Unintentionally, Verity’s eyes shot towards the booth where her mum’s friends had been. To her disappointment, they had gone. Her father was now staring, quite brazenly, at the chap that Verity had spotted before. 

Behind his hand, he whispered, “hooves, Vez. He’s got _hooves_.”

Battling an overwhelming urge to giggle, she turned to her mother, and asked, “can we go and find a table? Dad needs to sit down.”

Fenella nodded, while trying to catch the attention of the bar keep.

Relieved, she pulled him over to the now-vacant corner booth; there was only so much staring one could put up with. A few chocolate wrappers were piled neatly in the middle of the table, folded to form small squares - apart from that, it was relatively clean.

As she scanned the room, she realised that her mother was engaged in a quiet conversation with the man behind the bar. For the first time, Verity noticed ‘Wanted’ posters placed strategically along the walls, all with snarling faces and sizeable rewards. She squinted as she tried to read the details, but they were too far away. Her mother joined them a moment later, plastering an unconvincing smile on her face that did not quite reach her eyes.

“Tom will be with us in a minute. I’ve ordered us a round of drinks, and grabbed a few menus…the special today is Toad in the Hole, but I don’t recommend it, John – it’s not what you think.”

John looked puzzled for a moment, before pulling a face and shuddering, giving Fenella a grateful nod.

“Thanks for the head’s up, Nell.” He seemed apprehensive as he scanned the menu, but was pleased to find ‘leg of lamb’, which seemed innocent enough.

Verity was desperate to ask her mother what, or who, all the posters were about. She’d heard very little about the terrorists sweeping the nation - the small amount of information she had gleaned was from newspaper headlines, and eaves-dropping on her Aunty Mab. Maeve’s husband, Rudyard, worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He often heard news before it hit the general public, but her family had been very careful not to discuss these matters in front of her.

She sat in silence, trying to figure out a good way of bringing it up, when the barman, Tom, turned up with their drinks. He loomed over the table, tall and broad, with a shining bald head and very little teeth. Two sparkling flagons of mead stood either side of the tray, and a glass of bubbling, clear liquid sat in the middle.

“Two pints an’ a sherbet lemonade?”

Fenella thanked him politely, before reeling off their lunch orders.

***

It wasn’t too long before he returned, three plates piled high with delicious pub-grub. As they chattered about the various different things they might see on their trip, John was hanging on every word. Verity could tell that her mum didn’t want to give too much away, though - it would ruin the surprise.

Once Tom had cleared the table, Fenella smiled, broadly. “Right! Off to Gringotts. Stay close, you pair.”

As they strolled through the back door, they were greeted with a tiny courtyard, with nothing but a dustbin inside it. Confidently, Fenella walked towards it, and began to count the bricks above.

"One, two, three upwards, and one, two across!"

She tapped three times, before the brick started to quiver, and a small hole appeared in its place. The wall continued to part, brick by brick, to reveal an archway. Through it, was a cobbled street lined with shops, that curled round the corner and out of sight. Verity laughed as her father’s expression clouded once more, and he began to study the opening. He looked quickly between mother and daughter, and asked,

“Do we just…walk through?”

As if to demonstrate, Fenella strode through the arch, followed shortly by Verity. John steeled himself, rolling his shoulders, before jogging to Verity's side. He wiped his clammy hands on the front of his t-shirt, not quite meeting their gaze. A group of young witches whispered something about ‘muggles’, and pointed from behind their hands as they hurried past.

“So, that was Gringotts, was it? How convenient.” He asked, looking back as the archway began to disappear.

“That was just the entrance to the Alley, John - Gringotts is the bank. I’ve got to make a quick withdrawal, but you and Verity can wait outside, if you like?”

“No, no, that’s alright.” He paused. “Is there much difference between a wizard bank and – err – a ‘muggle’ bank?”

“I'm not sure - do muggle banks have dragons and rollercoasters?”

John laughed, then stopped, taking heed of Fenella’s deadpan expression. Verity could tell that he couldn’t decide if she was joking or not, and he was wise to question it. Her mother shot her a wink, before walking off down the cobbles.

Verity practically skipped down the street, brimming with excitement. She had never been to Gringotts before! She had waited outside with her Aunty Mab, the last time they had visited. Although she did not remember the dragons, she distinctly remembered something about Goblins…

***

Menacing mugshots leered through shop windows and seethed at them from street lamps. The Magical Menagerie pet shop, and the Eeylops Owl Emporium, seemed to be having a competition to see who could make the most noise - but the street itself was relatively quiet. Some of the smaller shops were boarded shut, ‘CLOSED’ signs hung ominously on the doors. Shifty groups seemed to be congregating in dark corners, with narrow, watchful eyes. Families scuttled past them, with their faces downcast. It was a disconcerting sight, as she had remembered the Alley being so vibrant and lively on her last visit. She realised her father wasn’t by her side, and turned to find him with his nose pressed up against ‘Broomstix’, the broomstick shop, with a new model gleaming in the window. He turned, awe-struck.

“Verity, this is brilliant. Bloody _brilliant_! Broomsticks? Who knew, eh?” He boomed, catching the attention of a few passers-by. He nodded sheepishly at them as they hurried past, muttering between themselves. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed at her mother.

As John turned around, he let out a low whistle, gazing up at the grandiose marble building on the corner. At the top of a set of white stone steps, stood a pair of colossal bronze doors, flanked by two ivory pillars. Beside them, Verity spotted two Goblins dressed in scarlet and gold. They were quite short creatures, with unusually large heads - like the bobble-head dolls often found in muggle trinket shops. Each had long, slender fingers and lengthy feet, with beady eyes that were devoid of colour. Their features were sharp and oversized, with bat-like ears and long, pointy noses. They bowed deeply as the family walked through, in to a small lobby. A pair of solid silver doors and two more Goblins stood in front of them. They smiled grimly, their pointed teeth glinting in the daylight. As they stepped closer, John pointed out an inscription, etched in to the doors, which read,

_‘Enter, stranger, but take heed,  
Of what awaits the sin of greed.  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors,  
A treasure that was never yours.  
Thief, you have been warned, beware,  
Of finding more than treasure there.’_

The hairs on the back of Verity’s neck prickled ominously. As the family stepped through, they were greeted with a large, marble hall. Counters ran the length of the room, with more bank tellers than they could count. Some were examining precious jewels through tiny magnifying glasses, while others weighed precious metals in beautiful brass scales. As she watched, a staff member led a family back in to the chamber, through one of the many doorways lining the walls - they were all looking rather queasy.

“What are those?” John whispered to Verity, cautiously. He gestured towards one of the creatures, whose half-moon spectacles were balanced high on the curvature of his nose.

“Goblins, dad. They run the bank.”

“Oh.” He said, looking no less puzzled than he had before. Verity continued,

“Mum says they’re really smart. They make all of our money, and Gringotts is the only bank in England…they’ve also got a reputation for being quite ruthless - I don’t think she was joking about the dragons.”

Her father nodded, and wrapped his arm tightly around Verity’s shoulders - she felt this action was more for his sake, than hers. Fenella guided them towards one of the cashiers, who was scrawling in a large, leather-bound book. She fumbled in her bag before producing a small, gold key. The Goblin seemed to frown at her, before she squeaked,

“Err! Yes, hello.” Clearing her throat, she pressed on. “Hayworth-Fraser, vault five hundred and two. Um, we’d also like to exchange some muggle money?”

Holding out the key, the Goblin took it from her, inspecting it with great care. After a few moments, he seemed to be satisfied.

“I will be happy to assist. How much is sir looking to convert today?”

All eyes were on John, and he looked positively bewildered. “Err, I’m not really sure - would fifty cover it, Nell?”

Fenella nodded, and passed the quivering notes to the Goblin’s out-stretched fingers. His mouth curled in to a forced smile.

“Thank you.” He elegantly fed the crisp papers in to a whirring machine underneath the counter, and coins could be heard tumbling in to a tray below. “Twelve Knuts, nineteen Sickles, and nine Galleons for you, sir.”

Verity’s father looked on in amazement, as her mother began to drag them off the countertop and in to her open palm. She handed the money to him, whilst muttering, “the gold ones are the Galleons, they’re worth a fiver, and the silver ones are the Sickles, which work out to around thirty pence. These little bronze ones are the Knuts, and they’re worth less than a penny. When in doubt, use the big gold ones.” John smiled, weakly, as she turned back to face the teller.

At his side, another Goblin had appeared.

“Eargor, take this family to vault five hundred and two.”

Through a door behind the counter, Verity was surprised to find herself in a tight, stone passage, lit only by flickering sconces. Their guide whistled, and a bumbling wooden cart appeared out of the gloom, screeching to a halt beside them. It ran on a set of steep, rickety tracks, that twisted off in to the darkness. She looked at her father, who seemed to realise that Fenella had not been joking at all. He whipped his head around, as if expecting to be face to face with a giant, fire-breathing lizard. To his visible disappointment, he was not.

Once they were settled, Eargor snapped his fingers, and they were off. The cart seemed to have a mind of its own, as it nimbly navigated the cavernous depths, hurtling through a labyrinth of passageways. The Goblin seemed unfazed by the rattling wagon - the small bit of hair he had left was dancing in the wind, as it looped round pillars and over stalagmites.

Verity took a peek at her father, and snickered. He was in his element. John was the kind of person who went on every ride at the theme park – _twice_. He was visibly restraining himself from whooping and throwing his arms in the air, which Verity was very grateful for - parents could be so embarrassing, sometimes.

All too soon, the cart came to a grinding halt. Eargor took the key in his spindly fingers, and unlocked the door. Through a cloud of acrid, green smoke, they could see mounds of bronze, silver and gold - piled high around the thick, stone walls. A Coat of Arms hung on the far side, and unfortunately, it had seen better days. The gold mantling had become tarnished with age, and the two mighty stags were covered in a thick layer of dust. What caught Verity's eye, was the family motto, 'Paratus Sum', emblazoned on a scroll underneath. 'I Am Ready' - a nod to the deeply ingrained values of integrity and valour. Most mottos were subtly (or, not-so subtly,) intertwined with purist bigotry, but Verity rather liked hers.

As the girl mused to herself, Fenella stepped carefully inside, taking handfuls of coins from the glittering heaps within. Her mother smiled briefly at the Goblin, before she took her seat.

“Ready.” She said. The cart, once again, careered off in to the dark.


	3. The Boy in the Bookshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, edit - 17/02/21.
> 
> Wow, it's a big one!
> 
> Tweaked grammar mistakes, fleshed out the description, fixed the flow. Added references to James, Rose, Dexter and Ted. Fleshed out Sirius a little more, added more dialogue between the Wildes/H.Fs and the Lupins. Remus is now a wonderful mix of Scottish and Welsh 🥳 (although, he still doesn't use many colloquialisms) and I've included a nod to his furry little problem. Verity is even more Scottish, and her owl is now called Einstein.
> 
> Also: please, _please_ imagine Gilly Graves as Aubrey Plaza. Thank you 😂

With eyes like saucers, John and Verity edged their way down the lengthy fridge of Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour. There were so many to choose from! Chocolate flavours, fruity flavours, flavours with a magical twist…they were practically drooling. The inside of the shop was a whimsical nod to the Fifties, with candy-cane pillars, chequered floor tiles and a beautiful, hand-written chalkboard above the counter. Pastel cartoons of happy little waffle cones, sundaes, and banana splits, giggled and winked their way across the board, dancing to a silent tune. Her mother had to make a quick stop at the apothecary next door, and had sent John and Verity on a mission for frozen treats.

“Surprise me!” She said, as she waddled off down the street, rummaging in her handbag for her order form. Reaching the door, she turned abruptly, and added, “ _anything_ but banana.”

Verity moved cautiously, as she balanced a tower of teetering scoops - apple crumble, and sticky toffee pudding, lavishly topped with whipped cream and toffee sauce. Her father, however, was stuck between a classic macadamia nut brittle, or a bubble-gum flavour that allowed the person to blow real bubbles, with enchanted popping rocks and a glittering pink sauce. Verity could tell that he did not want to pass up this opportunity.

Eventually, looking very pleased with himself, John carried two huge sundaes to the tables outside. Not long after, Fenella appeared, with shopping bags in hand. She dumped them next to the table, and slid gratefully in to her seat, before digging in to her very own masterpiece – chocolate and raspberry, with fruit pieces and edible rubies, topped with a rich, raspberry sauce. They ate in near silence, enjoying the puddings so much, that they could not bring themselves to speak.

The contrast between the street and their little pocket of bliss was unnerving. As families flitted from store to store, they moved as a unit – huddled together, speaking in hurried whispers. John seemed not to notice; he was far too busy blowing bubbles the size of his head, chortling to himself as they floated away on the breeze. Her mother, however, kept glancing down the street and over her shoulder. She tried to keep her movements casual, but Verity knew better.

She was soon distracted by a familiar family sauntering towards them, who seemed unaffected - or unaware - of the ‘thing’ that was making everyone else so fearful.

Opulent silk robes rippled around them, as they seemed to glide across the cobbles. The silver fastenings glittered in the sunlight, as did the crystal embroidery of their mother’s cloak, creating the illusion of a starry night sky. Each had black, wavy hair and angular features - almost elfin in nature. Both parents oozed old-world elegance, a slight up-turn to their nose as they surveyed the world around them. The youngest boy walked with them, matching their long, confident strides with two of his own. His young face was set in a similarly haughty sneer, with his hair smoothed in to place, stark against the cool tones of his alabaster skin.

The older of the two loped behind, lost in his own little world. Shaggy curls caught the breeze, as his eyes wandered from window to window. A small smile pinched his boyish cheeks, taking in the sights with a child-like wonder, with hands shoved firmly in to his pockets. He stopped, momentarily, outside the entrance to Knockturn Alley, inspecting the stall of shrunken heads with great interest.

“Oh, do keep up, Sirius!” His mother said, in a low hiss. “We’re going to be late for our meeting at the bank - you know those _creatures_ don’t like to be kept waiting.”

With a roll of his eyes, the boy quickened his pace. As he sloped up the stairs to Gringotts, he spotted Verity, and gave her a friendly wave. Once Sirius had gone, John pulled a face, sucking his teeth as he turned back to his dessert.

“Well, she seemed delightful. Poor kid, he was only having a look.”

Verity snorted, picking at her ice cream. “That’s Walburga Black, isn’t it, mum? I haven’t seen any of them since Aunty Mab’s wedding…her sons and I caused pure havoc!”

“That doesn’t surprise me at _all_.”

“Oh, you should’ve been there, dad, it was so funny. Hiding underneath the buffet table and pretending it was haunted, doing the funky chicken on the dance-floor, jumping out at people from behind the bushes near the toilets…it’s a shame James couldn’t make it, he would have loved it.” She said, giggling. Then, her smile dropped, as did her tone, “I do feel so sorry for Sirius, though – and Regulus. Their parents are not…um, the _nicest_ of characters.”

“Agreed.” Muttered Fenella, darkly. “I was at Hogwarts with Orion and Walburga - it’s not an experience I’d wish to repeat. Especially after the ruckus Walburga caused at the reception – you three were only playing, nae harm in that.” She took a moment to compose herself, clearly rattled. “Doesn’t matter what your roots are, Verity, remember that. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

John shot a sideways glance at his daughter, eyebrows raised, and whispered.

“No wonder she’s so grumpy. With a name like Walburga, I think I’d be pretty moody, too.”

***

After polishing off their sundaes, Verity and her parents had found themselves outside of a tall, narrow shop. It cut a grim figure, shabby and black, with ‘Ollivanders; Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC’ in peeling, gold script across the top of the door. The window was not garishly decorated as others had been; a simple cushion of faded purple velvet, and one, lone wand, was all that could be seen.

The tale of her mother’s first wand was one of Verity’s favourite bed time stories. Her mother had described it in so much detail, that, once inside, she felt the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. A wizened old man was stacking the shelves, muttering inaudibly. As he turned to greet them, pale, orb-like eyes shone with recognition, regarding Fenella with a small, guarded smile.

“Ah, Miss Hayworth-Fraser. Back again? Now, let me see if I remember correctly…” He thought briefly, then spoke, in a voice like spun silk. “Nine and a half inches, English Oak, quite rigid…with a unicorn tail core?” Her mother smiled, and produced her wand with a flourish. Mr Ollivander chuckled quietly to himself. “Ahh, yes. It is nice to see a wand in such good condition, after all these years. Very good with all that natural magic, I should imagine?” He blinked, owlishly, his eyes lingering over Verity’s father. “I’ve never seen you in here before, though. First time?”

“That’s right - John Wilde, sir. A pleasure.”

Mr Ollivander shook John’s out-stretched hand, before turning his nebulous gaze to Verity, who had been waiting patiently.

“First year at Hogwarts? Yes, let me see, I’m sure we have something here for you…” From his pocket, he produced a tape measure, flecked with silver markings. "Which is your wand arm, dear?"

Verity thought this was quite a silly question, but didn’t say as much, as she held out her right arm with a grin. She'd never had a wand before, how was she to know? He proceeded to measure her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around her head. As he did so, he spoke softly,

“The core of every Ollivander wand, is made from one of three highly potent components – the hair of a unicorn, the heart string of a dragon, or the tail feather of a phoenix. The first, will produce a consistent and loyal wand - the second, powerful and ambitious. The last, however, is the rarest of them all. Picky and stubborn, but once bonded, will show unmatched devotion and a variety of enviable skills…much like the bird from which they are taken. No two wands are alike, Miss Wilde, as no two creatures are, either. You will never achieve such desirable results, when using another wizard’s wand.”

Verity was spellbound. With a snap of his fingers, the tape measure fell to the floor. Mr Ollivander began to walk from shelf to shelf, muttering to himself.

“Hmm, let’s give this one a go, shall we?” He declared, as he slithered a box from beneath a pile. “Apple wood, ten inches, got a nice swish to it. Err, unicorn, if I’m not mistaken? Give it a wave, let me know what you think.”

Verity took the wand between her fingers, and felt nothing. Shaking his head, Mr Ollivander seized the wand, murmuring as he began to dart from shelf to shelf. He returned, a few moments later, with his arms piled high.

“Right, let’s try these. When you’re ready; Ash, ten and three quarter inches, dragon’s heartstring.” Again, there was nothing. “O-kay, how about…Willow, nine and a quarter, quite whippy, with a Unicorn - No, definitely not that one…” He murmured, as he took the lifeless wand in her hand.

After a good fifteen minutes, John perched in quiet anticipation on the shop’s lone, spindly chair, and Fenella watched her daughter’s wand-hand like a hawk. The old shopkeeper rifled eagerly through box after box, before he stated, breathlessly,

“Ebony and phoenix feather. Twelve inches, not much give – should be good for transfiguration and martial magic. Let’s give this one a go, eh?”

Before she had the chance to wave it, she felt a warmth budding under her fingertips. Verity looked delighted, as a cascade of red and gold sparks poured from the tip of her wand. She performed a glittering figure of eight, as her father clapped and cheered. Even in the dim light, she could see her mother’s rheumy eyes welling up with pride.

Mr Ollivander placed it gently back in the box, and wrapped it carefully in brown paper.

“You take good care of that for me, Miss Wilde.”

***

Dragging John past the broomstick shop, amid her mother’s cries of ‘She doesn’t ‘need’ one, John!’, they made a quick pit-stop to pick up some writing equipment. Despite the more lavish choices, such as peacock or swan, Verity had settled on a beautiful tawny quill, along with several rolls of parchment. She had even persuaded her father to purchase some invisible ink, that revealed itself with the right counter charm.

“What are you going to use it for?” He asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Oh, you know, just general mischief. Come on, dad, can you imagine if you’d had this at school? Think of the possibilities!”

Next on their list, was Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. A short, dumpy witch greeted them, dressed from head to toe in fuchsia pink. She smiled broadly, her voluminous blonde hair bouncing as she gestured towards the fitting room at the back. Half an hour later, they emerged, whilst Fenella wrestled the large, black packages in to her magically-extended handbag.

After acquiring a cauldron (copper, rather than the standard pewter,) Verity’s mother checked her watch, and called over her shoulder as she continued her march down the street.

“Right, you pair. We need to pop in to Flourish and Blotts - Verity’s still missing her school books.”

Pushing open the door, the small girl gasped in delight. The smell of old books, musty and sweet, felt like a warm embrace, whilst dust particles danced peacefully in slithers of natural light. Inside, was a treasure trove of fantastical books – some were dainty and bedazzled with precious stones, with enticing aromas emanating from every page - others were hefty and menacing, bound in what looked suspiciously like human skin. Verity’s nose crinkled in disgust.

John was equally captivated. He drifted through the bookcases, absent-mindedly picking up books like ‘Aliens: Real, or Magical Mishap?’ by Neil A. Laer, and ‘Easy Spells To Fool Muggles’ by Luca Caruso…Verity thought she saw her father sneak the latter in to the mounting pile of textbooks, when he thought that no one was looking - he clearly felt that this belonged in his arsenal, now that his daughter was off to Hogwarts.

Lost in a daydream, it was the spine of ‘Fantastic Beasts, and Where To Find Them’ by Newt Scamander that caught her eye. The green, scaled cover was etched in gold, and it glittered, enticingly. As she went to take it from the shelf, it was stuck fast, so she gave it a firm tug. What she was not expecting, was for the book to tug back.

She squeaked as it was pulled through to the other side, and replaced with a pair of bewildered green eyes. She recognised the scar from the Leaky Cauldron, and her cheeks suddenly felt very warm. Up went his bushy brows, and he disappeared, only to reappear at the corner moments later.

The boy gave her a sheepish grin, visibly flushed, as he crossed his arms over his chest. His scruffy, brown jumper hung off his lanky frame - the sleeves rolled back where it was too long in the arm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard - I thought it was jammed.” His accent had a soft, melodic lilt. Hints of Scottish, with a sing-song undertone that she couldn’t quite place.

“That’s alright - I thought it was bewitched, when it wouldn’t budge!” Verity managed a weak grin, pushing her glasses up her nose. Inwardly, she cringed.

In the light, she could see that his face was littered with scars - some larger, and more obvious, than others. A thin, angry line that ran along the right side of his jaw seemed to be healing slowly, looking almost vibrant against his pallid complexion. As she observed him, she could not help but wonder what had happened to him. She cleared her throat, her own cheeks rosy as she averted her gaze.

“Here,” he said, as he held the book towards her. “Um, you take it. I’m sure I can find another one.”

“Oh! Er, thanks, but you really don’t have to…”

“It’s okay – I’d prefer a second-hand one, anyway. You can find all kinds of interesting things in second-hand books.” He gave her a small smile, stuffing a hand into one of his pockets. Before she could reply, her mother’s voice could be heard across the shop.

“Verity? Darling? I’d like you to come and meet an old school friend!”

As she turned to introduce herself, she realised that the boy had vanished. Verity looked around, an eyebrow raised as she scratched her head. How had he managed to do disappear so fast?

Rounding the end of the bookcase, she saw him stood next to his parents; a man that could have been his double, in a patched, grey suit - and a frail, mousey-haired witch with tired, green eyes. They both wore pinched smiles and an air of caution. Fenella, however, chose to ignore this, as she continued on in a peppy tone,

“Verity, this is Lyall and Hope Lupin - Lyall and I go way back – we were in Gryffindor together, back in the day!” She said, nudging him on the arm. Verity let out an almost inaudible groan, and she saw the corners of the boy’s mouth twitch. “Their son is starting this year, too. I thought it would be nice to introduce the pair of you.”

“Alright, how’s it going? Say hello, Remus.” Said Hope, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders. Remus’ accent made sense now – his mother was, quite clearly, Welsh.

“Actually, mam, we’ve already met.” He responded, with a hint of quiet amusement. Verity smirked, revealing the book under her arm. “We played tug of war through the book case – I thought it was only fair if I gave her the prize.”

“Yeah, he almost had my arm off! It’s alright, though, I suppose – I’ll live.”

The pair grinned at each other, and as the conversation flowed, the air of caution seemed to melt away. Lyall and Hope visibly relaxed, substituting polite chit chat for genuine laughter.

Whilst their parents spoke amongst themselves, Verity asked, “have you just received your letter, too, then?” 

This was met with a puzzled expression. “Letter?”

“Um, yeah - for Hogwarts?”

“Oh - I didn’t get a letter - Professor Dumbledore popped round for a game of Gobstones. He’s, err, quite close with my dad.” Said Remus, not quite meeting her eye. Verity raised an eyebrow.

“Gobstones? I’ve heard of that before, what’s that?”

“Well, it’s a bit like the muggle game, marbles, but they’ve got this foul-smelling goo inside of them.” He explained, pulling a face. 

“Eurgh, gross!”

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie to you, I’d rather eat ten flobberworms than get a face full of that stuff.”

“Och, don’t, you’ll make me boak!” Groaned Verity, as she covered her mouth with her hand. “What was Professor Dumbledore like? I haven’t met him, yet.”

“He was really nice! It was all quite casual, really. Mam popped the kettle on and brought out the biscuit tin - it was like having a really eccentric grandparent round for tea.”

Verity giggled, as she imagined the infamous Albus Dumbledore, with his long white beard and pointy hat, sat at a kitchen table sampling Hob Nobs.

As they both chatted away, their parents watched on – Lyall and Hope in silent amazement. Hope turned to Fenella, careful to keep her voice low,

“It’s so nice to see Remus make a friend. To be honest, like, he’s not really socialised much with children his own age. He’s usually very quiet. Thanks for suggesting this, Nell.”

Fenella patted her on the arm, with a sympathetic smile. “Verity hasn’t had the easiest time making friends, either. She went to the local school, but you know what it’s like - they can’t control their outbursts.”

They laughed, exchanging meaningful glances.

“Oh yes, we can definitely relate to that.”

John checked his watch,

“I think we’re going to have to cut this short, we’ve still got bits to do. Thanks for filling me in on the Ministry, though, Lyall – what an eye-opener. Who knew, eh? A whole political system!” He shook Lyall’s hand, warmly. “It was lovely to meet you both; and you, Remus.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Wilde.”

“Aye, a pleasure, John. Let us know when you’re about for a pint, eh?” 

During this exchange, Fenella had quietly slipped a small package into Hope’s handbag, and gave her arm a light squeeze. Hope returned the gesture with a thin-lipped smile, snapping her bag shut and tucking it firmly under her coat. Verity supposed it was some type of ‘lady potion’ – her mum was always making up new remedies for ‘that time of the month’. 

Clearing his throat, Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose, and asked, “can…can I write to you? I think my mum’s got your address.”

He picked at the sleeve of his oversized jumper, reverting back to the awkward boy at the bookshelf.

“Yeah, that sounds great! It’ll give me something to do, anyway.” She teased, as the boy shot her a wolfish grin.

“Okay, brilliant. Bye, Verity.”

“See you, Remus!”

***

Eerie, luminous eyes peered at them as they entered the Eeylops Owl Emporium. The shop was small and dimly-lit, with owls perched upon wooden posts, and hung from the ceiling in large, gilded cages. The shopkeeper was a friendly old woman, who sat flipping through a copy of the Daily Prophet. Figures in dark cloaks scowled up at them from the front page, underneath a headline that read,

‘MUGGLE ATTACKS ON THE RISE. MINISTRY IN TURMOIL.’

John’s eyebrows raised, as Fenella ushered her daughter further in to the shop. Their silence spoke volumes - the air, thick with tension. Verity’s father cleared his throat,

“So, what kind of owl are you looking for, True?”

It was a poor attempt at changing the subject, but, Verity knew that this was not the time, nor the place, to ask questions. She stepped delicately through the forest of perches, stopping when she heard a little ‘hwit’ from behind her. There, stood a charming tawny owl, similar to the one that had delivered her letter. She beamed and stretched out her arm, allowing it to clamber on to her wrist.

“This one.”

Before they left, they bought a small travel cage, and another bag of Owlio’s for the journey. The owl hooted gratefully, as Verity poked a few through the bars.

“What are you going to name him?” Asked John, as they ambled up the street.

Verity pondered for a moment, as different names tumbled through her mind's eye. She watched, as he ruffled his feathers, looking very much like a mad scientist. 

“Einstein.” She said, with a grin.

***

John and Verity paid a quick visit to Gambol and Japes Joke Shop, where Verity had picked up a pack of Exploding Snap cards – much like muggle Snap, but with an added element of danger. John had bought her brothers a pair of self-inflating whoopee cushions, and a colour-changing hair brush for Rose.

From there, they had popped in to the sweet shop over the road, lining their pockets with all kinds of goodies. Sugar Quills, Fizzing Whizzbees, Sherbet Lemons, Liquorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs that really hopped, and had a Famous Wizard card in every box…the choices were endless. Verity managed to dissuade her father from buying Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans,

“No, dad, they really mean ‘every’ flavour! They aren’t like normal jelly beans, you might end up with a vomit one. They’re minging!”

Eventually, Fenella managed to drag them out, after John had almost succeeded in buying half the store. He grinned as he shoved the striped paper bags in his pockets, his leather jacket bulging with sugary delights. They found a quiet bench to sit on, as her mother did the last of the shopping in Wiseacre’s Wizarding Supplies. Verity’s father curled his arm around her shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze, and a kiss on the top of her head.

“Thanks for today, babe, it’s been a… _magical_ experience. Eh? Eh? Get it?” He said with a nudge, as he grinned down at his daughter. She laughed, shoving his arm, playfully. “Jokes aside, it’s been nice to be a part of your world, if only for a day.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back in no time! I’ll be dragging you down here every summer.” They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, before she added, “I saw you having a good ol’ chat with Remus’ dad, what was that about?”

“Ahh, he’s a really interesting bloke, Lyall. He works with these things called ‘Boggarts’ at your Ministry. Absolutely mental! They take the shape of your worst fear – not something you’d catch me doing.” As he said this, he looked mildly impressed.

Verity’s mother joined them at the bench, shoving the last of the shopping in to her handbag. It looked as though it was about to pop - bulging and straining at the seams, with odds and ends desperately trying to escape through the top. Fenella, however, seemed not to notice, as she slung the bag over her shoulder with ease.

“Right, we’d best be getting off. We can’t Floo with the owl, so we’re going to have to take the bus.”

“The bus? To your neck o’ the woods? Blimey, that’ll take hours, won’t it?”

Verity laughed, her mousey hair bouncing as she shook her head. “The Knight Bus isn’t a normal bus, dad. We’ll be home before you, most likely.”

Verity was correct. The Knight Bus was not a normal bus at all – in fact, it was far from ordinary. Violently purple, and running by its own set of rules, it whizzed and banged its way around the country, coming to the aid of stranded witches and wizards in need. One minute, it could be racing through the Highlands of Scotland, and the next, it could be speeding along the Cornish coast. 

The ancient bus driver, Ernie Prang, could barely see through milky eyes and a dense thicket of brows. The conductor, Gilly Graves, was not the kind of person one would usually find working in the hospitality industry. Verity thought she was brilliant, but unfortunately, Gilly did not seem to share her sentiments.

Back through the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, and out on to Charing Cross Road, they said their goodbyes and waved John off, as he made his way to the station. 

Fenella turned to her daughter, and said, “are you ready?”

Verity nodded, and her mother stuck out her wand-arm.

BANG! The garish, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air. The doors swung open, and out sauntered a tall, willowy witch, with sleek black hair, olive skin and a moody expression. 

In a rehearsed monotone, she drawled, “welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Gilly Graves, and I will be your conductor this evening. Eleven sickles is standard fare, but for thirteen, we offer hot chocolate, and for fifteen, you can have a hot water bottle and toothbrush in the colour of your choice. If you have any questions, please don’t…hesitate to ask.”

***

Verity watched the sunset from her bedroom, smiling in quiet contemplation. Her window hung slightly ajar, as she allowed the sounds of the forest to wash over her. From downstairs, she could hear an old ballad crooning over the radio, and her mother tinkering in the kitchen. All of a sudden, the radio went quiet, and it was replaced by the sound of two voices. Verity strained to listen, as they spoke in hushed tones,

“…worried for Verity. I feel like I should be keeping her at home, where we can all keep a closer eye on her. You should have seen it – everyone was so afraid.”

“Albus will keep the weans safe, Nell, you know that. It’s the safest place in the world, in times like these.”

“I know - it doesn’t mean I feel comfortable about it, though. Would you have sent us away, if there was even the slightest chance we wouldn’t see you again?”

“If I thought you’d be safer? In a heartbeat, hen, there’s nae question. If ye’d not been at Hogwarts during the Second World War, ye’d have been shipped off tae yer Aunty in Stornoway.” The two women paused, before she heard her nanny continue, in a comforting tone, “Peggy will be there. Verity won’t be on her own...she'll be alright, she’s a strong lass.”

“She’s only a child, mum. Maeve said –"

“I know perfectly well what Maeve said.” Her grandmother’s voice muttered, the tone grim. Fenella stayed quiet. “He’s growing bolder by the day…have ye spoken tae Verity? Prepared her?”

“No, and I don’t plan to – not yet.”

“She needs tae know, Nell.”

Verity heard her mother splutter, before firing back, “she’s too young, she’ll be terrified!”

“In less than a month, that wee girl will find oot for herself. It’d be better, coming from you. I’m surprised ye’ve managed tae shelter her for this long, what with all the comings an’ goings at the cottage.”

Her mother grumbled in agreement, and bid her own mother goodnight. After a minute or so, Verity heard the stairs begin to creak. She quietly closed her window and picked up the closest textbook – she did not want her mum to know she was being nosey. Her mother’s footsteps stopped just shy of her bedroom door - moments later, there was a rhythmic knock. Fenella dithered at the door, before perching on the end of the bed, with a stack of newspapers in her arms. As she spoke, her voice quivered.

“Verity, I think there’s something you should know.”


	4. The Order

Verity sat in stunned silence. Her face contorted as she tried to make sense of her mother’s words, ears ringing in the deafening quiet. How could one man - if you could even call him that – be capable of such horror? She jumped, as Fenella placed a gentle hand on her knee.

“So - so, you’re saying this evil lunatic has been murdering muggles…for sport?”

“Some of them, yes. Although, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there are a lot of awful people out there, that believe that magical blood is superior...and, that anyone other than a pureblood wizard is – is vermin, basically. Muggles especially, and squibs.” Fenella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking scandalised that the words had even left her mouth.

“That’s – that’s crazy. We’re all human beings, aren’t we? Magic isn’t everything.” Her mother nodded, grimly, and Verity felt a lump start to rise in her throat. Her father was a muggle – was he in danger? Her hands were starting to sweat. “Why hasn’t the Ministry put a stop to it? Why haven’t they stamped him out?”

“It’s not as simple as that, Verity. With all the chaos regarding the Blood Riots, and the purists frothing at the bit, You Know Who has chosen the perfect time to strike. The Ministry are doing as much as they can, but they can’t be everywhere at once.” Fenella’s tone was sombre, as she took a sip of her tea. “He’s got followers all over the world, doing his bidding. Death Eaters, they’re calling themselves.” Her mouth scrunched, as though the words tasted sour on her tongue. “That’s not to mention the other races - he’s even got the Giants involved, now -”

“Giants? What would they want with some idiot with a ‘God Complex’? Giants hate wizards.” 

“Language.” Warned her mother, but the usual snap wasn’t there – she sounded drained, and looked it, too. Fenella exhaled, rubbing her face with her hands. “From what I’ve heard, He can be extremely persuasive. The Giants have been treated like monstrous animals by the wizarding community for as long as I can remember – even longer, if you pick up a history book. If he offers them something they want, in exchange for their loyalty and – ah - skills, they’re not going to turn him down.”

“So why isn’t anyone taking a stand against him? Why aren’t we all fighting back?”

Fenella looked at her daughter – with her tiny, balled fists and fierce expression - and the corner of her mouth turned up in a sad smile.

“Didn’t you feel it, in Diagon Alley?” Verity nodded, uncertainly – she had felt something. Fear. “Too many people still remember the last Dark Wizard who tried to take power. This…You Know Who, has been making headlines for little over a year, and already seems to be hell bent on becoming even worse than he was. Anyone who resists ends up with the Dark Mark above their house, as opposed to -”

“The Dark Mark?”

Fenella twitched, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. “The, err - signature that the Death Eaters use, to show that someone has been murdered. Have you seen it before? In the Prophet, maybe?” 

Verity shook her head. Slowly, her mother rifled through the copies of the Daily Prophet she had discarded on the bed, before passing one to her daughter. From the front page, a large, glittering skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth, illuminated parts of her face in an eerie acid green. 

Verity gulped - the feeling of hot, stinging bile rising in her throat. While she couldn’t fully understand the gravity, she had understood the implications, and it made her sick to her stomach. She grimaced, putting the paper face down on her red tartan comforter.

“And these ‘Death Eaters’…they’re his followers?”

“Yes - they’re His ‘inner circle’.”

She felt another bubble of nausea pop in her stomach - she simply could not comprehend how this mad-man had any supporters at all. She didn’t know who was more evil, at this point – the man behind the madness, or the people enforcing it. A groan turned in to a growl, as she slammed her fists on the bed.

“It doesn’t make sense. Surely anybody with half a brain can understand how stupid his plan is? What’s he going to do - kill all the muggles and take over the world?”

“Basically – yes, that seems to be the case. His plan is not that dissimilar to Grindelwald’s, but it’s a lot more aggressive. You Know Who is not building prisons like Nurmengard for people who defy him, or don’t meet his standards, he’s simply killing them. Anyone he deems to be ‘lesser than’ will be eradicated, so that wizard-kind can rise up and take their ‘rightful’ place.”

“But why would anyone join him? We’ve lived happily alongside muggles and other races for years, they aren’t doing any harm. They have their world, and we have ours!”

“Unfortunately, not everybody would agree with you. It has only been thirty years since Grindelwald’s defeat. He still has a lot of fans, biding their time, eager for another uprising.” Verity made a noise of disgust, her mouth turning downwards as faces floated through her mind – she knew the type, and it was unnerving. “Look at what happened when the Squibs marched for their rights. There was absolute uproar – even though they are technically wizards. It isn’t their fault they were born without magic, but some people see them as…as ‘runts’.” Her mother pulled a face, eyes crinkling shut as she shuddered. “Families, like the Blacks, do away with them in secret. Put them in orphanages…or worse.” 

Verity grimaced, as her mother confirmed at least one of her suspicions - she remembered all the vile things she had heard Walburga spout over the years. One memory, in particular, stuck out very clearly. The pain on Sirius’ face, and the confusion on her own, when his mother had called her a dirty little half-blood and pulled him out from under the buffet table. The resulting screaming match between her mother and his, as she roared across the dance-floor that Fenella was a blood traitor, a _mugglefuc_ …Verity shook her head, trying to ignore the disgusting word etching itself in to her mind. It was still hard to imagine her murdering an innocent child, though.

“That’s so horrible, those poor babies. What kind of person-"

“The kind of person who clearly thinks this ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’ has the right idea. Your Aunty Mab chose to write protective legislation for Muggles and Magical Beings, because there are so many strong opinions, and not all of them are kind.”

The lump in Verity’s throat was painful now, as she tried harder and harder to ignore it. She set her mouth in a grim line, eyes blazing as she looked up from her knees.

“If any of them come near my dad, I’ll –“ The girl faltered, the words getting caught behind her teeth as she realised, in that moment, just how powerless she was. Her mum made to put her arms around her, but she scooted away – her lungs were tight, and she did not want to be touched. Fenella nodded, and offered a half-smile instead. 

“Please try not to worry, Verity. I put a Fidelius Charm on his house a while back – they won’t find him there.”

“He’s no threat to them, though. They wouldn’t bother going to his house, would they? They have no reason to. He’d get caught up in a random attack somewhere!” Her face, and her resolve, crumpled. Tears threatened to spill from Verity’s eyes, as she hastily wiped them on the back of her sleeve. Verity felt very small. Her legs scrunched up to her chin - she wrapped her arms around them, holding them tight. For the first time, she felt that childish invincibility slipping silently away. It was replaced by a burning determination, as her dainty hands clenched once again. “Is there any way to stop Him?”

Hesitantly, Fenella continued. “There is…an organisation. A group of wizards, working under the Ministry’s radar. They’re our best hope.”

“How do you know about them, if they’re supposed to be a secret?”

“Never you mind.”

“…Is that who you’re brewing the antidote potion for?” 

A look of defeat passed over her mother’s face, as she weighed up her options.

“Yes.” She said, with a sigh. Verity, however, made a noise of triumph.

“I knew it was too much for Alastor, even he’s not that crazy. Wait a minute…is that why so many people have been popping round? Are you part of this movement?” Verity gasped. “Are you their leader?”

“No, Vez, I’m not their leader…but, I have been working with them as a healer. Some of the people you have seen over the last year or so have been Order members, yes.”

“Who else is in the Order, apart from you and Alastor?”

“That’s not really my place to say.”

“Is it just called ‘The Order’ or does it have another name?”

“I can’t say any more, I’ve told you more than enough.” 

Verity could hear the anxiousness in her mother’s voice, but pressed on regardless.

“Go on, I’m going to find out anyway. You know I -”

“Verity, I said that’s enough. This isn’t a game, it’s dangerous.”

Grumbling, she pulled the covers over her head, as her mother left the room. She could already tell that she wouldn’t be sleeping much that night – her mind had begun to play and re-play parts of their conversation. The curiosity within her, that often landed her in trouble, started to question the new faces she had seen come and go - and how, sometimes, they disappeared through the back wall of the living room.

Foxglove Cottage had quite a few hidden rooms – mostly for storage, as her mother hated to throw anything away - it was why the house looked so higgledy-piggledy from the outside. Throughout her childhood, there had only been one that Verity was not allowed to enter - the study. It was the perfect choice for her mother’s secret club. 

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms in a huff. She had never felt the need to explore it, knowing it was mostly just Funky Brew ledgers and accounting books, but - now that she knew what was really going on in there, she felt like she wanted to go snooping. Ignoring the desire to sneak down there, she crept over to her desk, where she found a roll of parchment and her quill.

“Dear Remus,” she began.

***

“Verity? Can you come and help me divvy this up, please?”

Fenella’s voice rang through the cottage, as Verity sat reading in the living room.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Now, please.”

Throwing her head back, she groaned. The lack of sleep was obvious, by the deep pockets of blue underneath each eye, and her slack-jawed expression. Archimedes stretched lazily - Verity was pretty sure he was smiling at her, as he snuggled back in to his fluffy blanket. Clambering out of the fort she had created between the deep red sofa and the large, winged arm chair, she slouched towards the kitchen.

Her mother stood, visibly frazzled, surrounded by mason jars, covering every hard surface within a two metre vicinity. Some of the empties were stacked precariously on top of each other, and standing dangerously close to the edge of the oak countertop. Ladling the gelatinous green goop with expert precision, the wooden pallet was filling up rather quickly. Fenella barely took her eyes from the cauldron, as she thrust a spoon at her daughter,

“Let’s get a wiggle on – Moody will be here soon, and we’ve got a meeting this afternoon.”

“That’s what happens when you leave things ‘til the last minute, mum.” Verity teased, and her mother tutted playfully.

As they spoke, they heard a knock at the door. A creak, and a series of clunks later, the door swung open to reveal a tall, broad figure, swathed in a patched travelling cloak. His straggly brown hair was flecked with grey, framing the ghost of a handsome face – rugged and lined from his years as an Auror. He nodded to the two witches, as he thumped across the floor, his wooden leg dragging slightly as he made his way to the table.

“Afternoon, ladies. Fenella – password?”

“Really, Alastor? You’re standing in my kitchen.”

“Answer the question.” He barked, eyeing her suspiciously, his wand raised. Turning back to the hob, Fenella sighed deeply.

“Fine, fine - it's Artemis.”

“Alright…1964.” Seeing the puzzled look on Verity’s face, he chuckled, his rough voice catching in his throat as he took a seat at the table. “You can never be too careful, Verity. Constant vigilance, and all that.”

“What does 1964 mean?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, would it?”

Fenella chuckled, “It’s the year he lost his leg. Really, Moody, I can assure you that there are no dark wizards hiding in my refrigerator.”

Alastor grumbled, taking his battered hip flask from the inner pocket of his cloak, and pressing it to his lips.

“If you had seen what I’ve seen, Nell, you wouldn’t be so flippant.”

Pulling a gadget like a glass spinning top from one of his many other pockets, he sat it atop the table, where it stood – motionless. Satisfied, he stuffed it back into his cloak, but not before it had piqued Verity’s interest.

“What’s that, Alastor?”

“A Sneakoscope. If anyone’s up to no good, it’ll spin and scream like a banshee – very handy piece of kit.”

As Fenella busied herself with the concoction, still bubbling in the pot, Moody muttered,

“Try to nick your mother’s bandana. Go on, while her back's turned.”

Positioning the gadget back on the table, he looked at her expectantly, a sly glint in his usually-unreadable eyes. Grinning, Verity tip-toed across the floor. As she got closer, the Sneakoscope began to slowly spin, the lights blinking intermittently. Reaching towards her mother’s hair, the spinning was joined by an ear-splitting shriek, causing her mother to jump out of her skin – spilling the contents of the ladle all down her front.

“Alastor!”

“Sorry, Nell, couldn’t resist. Needed to check if it was still working.”

Grumbling to herself, she siphoned the majority from her apron and into a nearby jar, as Verity re-joined Alastor at the table.

“Have you got any other gadgets with you?”

As Moody began to rummage through his cloak, her mother’s sharp voice cut through the quiet,

“How about you two help me with this, eh? It’s not going to bottle itself.”

Hiding a snigger, they each grabbed a ladle, and set to work.

***

Foxglove Cottage was alive with chatter, as people began to arrive for the Order meeting. Some, Verity recognised, and some, she didn’t, but that didn’t stop Alastor from covertly filling her in.

“That’s Ziba Meadowes, and her husband, Abe. A journalist, and a healer – not exactly front-line, but they’re two of our strongest allies.” He murmured, nodding to a smartly-dressed couple as he sealed one of his jars. They were as different as night and day, stood huddled in the corner of the kitchen, pouring over a notebook. Ziba was fairly short and garishly dressed, in knee-length floral robes and ankle boots - Abe's coal black travelling cloak, sensible shoes and towering stature were a stark contrast. “That, there, is Russ Lockett,” A tall, young wizard with light brown hair was chatting to her mother near the kitchen table, “– you’ll be seeing a lot of him this year, he’s your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Lucky, too – he’s someone you’d want in your foxhole. Always thought he’d make a fine Auror…Ah, Algie, where’s Barney?” Alastor called gruffly across the room, to a large, friendly man who was checking passwords at the door. Breaking away from his conversation with a group of witches, he gave them both a broad smile,

“At home – Augusta’s parents are over, but I’ll make sure to relay any messages.”

“Good man.” Moody said, with a nod. Turning back to Verity, he continued her education. “Barney Longbottom’s an Auror, too. We’re having to be quite careful, though – don’t want old Jenkins cottoning on. She might be a bit of a soft touch, but we’d lose our jobs so fast it would make your head spin.”

"Jenkins?"

"The Minister of Magic, girl. Merlin, what is your mother teaching you?"

“What are you two talking about?” Fenella stood behind them, hands on hips, looking between them with beady eyes.

“The potion.”

“Nothing!” 

Verity winced, as a sheen of victory passed over her mother's face – they probably should have gotten their story straight beforehand. Moody shot Verity the side-eye, as if she had broken some unwritten pact.

“So, which is it then?” Fenella pestered him, looking utterly unconvinced.

“The potion.”

“Moody, you’re on a warning.”

“Come on, Nell, that’s not –” 

“She’s _eleven_ , Alastor.”

Giving a nod of defeat, which seemed to satisfy her mum, he watched as she stalked away.

“Your mother is a formidable woman.” He said, quietly, as Verity giggled.

As if to prove a point, Fenella clapped her hands together in one short, sharp burst.

“Right. Is that everyone? I think we should get the ball rolling.” People started to mill towards the door, chatting amongst themselves. Verity followed, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Not inconspicuous enough, it seems, as she felt an arm fly across her chest. “Not you. Go and finish up, please. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“But, _mum_ -”

“No ‘but’s, Verity. This is non-negotiable.” Scowling, Verity made her way back to the cooker, muttering under her breath. Surely she had a right to know, what was going on in her own house?

As her mother’s robes whipped out of sight, Verity slunk back the way she had come, out in to the hall, and peeked through the slit in the door frame.

She was unable to make out the incantation, but her mother began to trace the shape of what looked like a bat on the cream living room wall. Just like the walled entrance to Diagon Alley, it began to morph. Except, this time, the shape of a door cut out and slid to the side, revealing a very different space to the study she had caught glimpses of throughout her childhood.

At that very moment, Verity decided - she would make it her goal to find out what was in there.

***

Verity felt like she had decanted hundreds of antidotes – in reality, it was closer to fifty, but the process had seemed to be never-ending. She couldn’t help but check over her shoulder every few minutes, or take ‘innocent’ trips in to the hallway, hoping to catch someone out. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

As she sat, surrounded by pallets, she grumbled to herself. Eleven wasn’t _that_ young - certainly not too young to be privy to their oh-so-secretive meetings. She could handle herself, and she wouldn’t get in the way. Why was her mum being such a spoilsport?

Deciding she’d had enough of sitting around, she whistled to Archie, grabbed her broomstick, and set off for the meadow near the treehouse. 

As they picked their way through the forest, she was startled by a loud noise, like the crack of a whip. Archimedes stopped dead, and he let out a low growl, his ears pricked and eyes trained on the old Oak up ahead.

“You heard it too, then?” Whispered Verity, suddenly feeling very exposed.

She knew that sound – every wizard did. It was the sound of apparition, which meant that someone had either appeared or disappeared just a few metres away. She fumbled in the pocket of her jeans for her Swiss Army knife, flipping it open and holding it in front of her with trembling hands. She prayed for the forest to be still, as the usually comforting breeze whipped through the leaves above, tainting the quiet. She was trying to listen.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on separating the sounds around her. The brook. The chatter. The leaves. Footsteps? No. Breathing? She shook her head, trying to ignore her thumping heart. Could it have been someone from the meeting?

‘No,’ she thought, ‘They would have passed me in the kitchen.’

Verity’s courage wavered, and she considered going back to the cottage. Archie sniffed the air, and moved forwards, stopping again to look back over his shoulder.

“Is it safe?” Her voice sounded so fragile, but amplified in the quiet - like a stage whisper. She felt a bit silly, talking to a cat about something as serious as this, and was glad there was no one around to hear her.

‘I hope there isn’t, anyway.’

That is when she noticed her broom, still clamped in her clammy hand. Kicking off from the ground, she circled high above the tree, checking the surrounding area. Much to her relief, she saw that it was empty. The relief was short-lived, however, as it dawned on her that whoever had disappeared, clearly did not want to be caught. This was especially worrying, as no one could apparate in or out of Aysgarth Forest without Fenella’s permission. Could it be a spy?

It was not a matter of bravery, she told herself, as she flew the short distance to her front door. This was something her mother needed to know. It would be foolish of her to gambol about in the woods, without informing an adult.

Bursting in through the door, she hollered at the top of her lungs for her mother.

Fenella, followed by Alastor, Russ and a witch she had not been introduced to (indirectly, or otherwise) came flying around the corner, wands raised.

“Are you alright, Verity?”

“Are you hurt, girl?” Alastor strode towards her, hot on the heels of her mother - their expressions fraught.

“There - there was s-someone in the forest.” She stuttered, kicking herself for sounding so timid.

“Did you see them? What did they look like? Did they say anything to you?” Like a Gatling gun, the Auror in Moody sprang in to action. Verity felt herself cower under his wild eyes, and began to second guess herself.

Had she really heard anything at all? Yes. She had. She _knew_ she had.

“N-no, I just…well, we heard them disapparate. It came from the old Oak tree – the tall one, near the meadow.”

Without a word, Alastor, Russ and the un-named witch swept from the kitchen, towards the front door.

“Are you sure you’re alright? That must have been scary - well done for coming to tell us straight away. You did the right thing.”

“I’m okay, mum, honestly – they scarpered pretty quickly when they saw me and Arch. Sorry I didn’t get a good look at them, though.” A small part of Verity felt like she had let them down. She kept her eyes trained on the toes of her old scruffy boots.

“No! Don’t be silly, I’m glad you didn’t – it could have ended very differently.” Verity looked up at her mum, and saw that her worry lines were out in full force. Her brows crunched together as she fought back tears.

“Oh mum, please don’t be upset, I’m alright. Look on the bright side - it might've just been a fox...a very _fat_ fox snapping a twig.” She said, wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist, followed by a feeble grin – even she didn’t believe that. Fenella’s expression darkened, as she held her at arm’s length.

“Verity, you know that no one can get in here without my say so. Everyone who is meant to be here today, was here, and anybody who wasn’t, would have made themselves known. I highly doubt it was a fat fox.” Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. Fear. It was rearing its ugly head again. “Come in to the living room - we’ll wait for the others to return, then we’ll fill everyone in.”

“Together?”

“I think it may have been a bit silly of me, to try to keep you completely out of the loop. We’re at war, Verity, and you need to be prepared. This was a lucky escape.” Catching the look on her face, her mother added, “that still doesn’t mean you can come to meetings, though.”

***

Alastor appeared a few minutes later, followed by Russ, who shrugged.

“We found footprints, but nothing definitive.” Called the witch, as she stopped in front of Verity. She and Russ both wore muggle jumpers and jeans, which was relatively uncommon in the Wizarding world. Her serious demeanour dropped in to a sympathetic smile, and she asked, “Are you alright there, love?”

“I’m okay, thanks, just a bit…” After a moment of searching, Verity gave up with a shrug.

“That’s understandable – I would have been proper scared, if I was you. I’m Wynne, it’s nice to meet you - Nell’s told us so much about you.” The blonde stuck out her hand, which Verity shook with a smile.

Russ Lockett grinned brightly, offering Verity his hand, too. “All good things, we promise! I’m looking forward to teaching you lot this year – I can’t wait to be back at Hogwarts.” His Northern burr was comforting, but she couldn’t quite place it. Blackburn, maybe?

“Didn’t you only leave last year?” Teased Wynne, as Alastor re-traced the winged creature on the wall, and disappeared in to the study.

“I’ll have you know, you were only a year above me, Dixon, and it’s been at least seven years since either of us set foot in that castle - this baby face is a _gift_ , I'm telling you.”

Verity watched their interaction with silent amusement – until the secret door, once again, slid open. Moody, and the twelve other members present filed in to the lounge. As he turned to face them, his face was grave.

“We have a problem.” Everyone started to speak at once, quiet chatter evolving quickly in to a jumble of noise. “Settle down.” He growled, his fierce gaze sweeping the room in one swift movement. At once, they fell silent. “There was a spy in the wood. Not sure who, not sure why, but they were there – Fenella’s daughter was _seen_.”

A gasp was uttered here or there, and the whispers started up again. All eyes were on Verity, as she sunk further in to the soft cushions of the chenille sofa. How embarrassing. Algie Longbottom stepped forwards, his brow furrowed.

“Are you sure it was a spy?”

“There's no other explanation – the Anti-Disapparition jinx has not been tampered with...which means it’s someone we know, but were not expecting.”

“A mole?” Uttered a woman, her eyes wide as she turned to the witch next to her, who looked equally fearful.

“Do you have anything we can work with?”

“We have tracks, Algie,” said Wynne, “but, no smoking gun.”

Algie looked puzzled – he wasn’t familiar with muggle phrasing. Turning back to Moody, he asked,

“What kind of tracks?”

“Size nine, boots of some sort.” Muttered Alastor – Verity could practically see the cogs in his head ticking over, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he silently considered different angles. Floorboards creaked under foot as he paced, the tap of his cane and the drag of his leg puncturing the uneasy silence. When he finally spoke, he started slow, before quickly gaining traction. “We can also rule out everyone within these four walls. Unless, did anyone leave? Toilet break?” Moody’s eyes were sharp as they scanned from face to face, his expression unyielding. The answer was unanimous – nobody had set foot outside that office.

“Well, it does confirm one thing. We know that there’s a leak somewhere.” Ziba Meadowes’ tone was matter-of-fact, as she flipped open her notebook once more. Her short, black hair fell in tight curls around her face, as she rummaged through her handbag for her quill. “The question is, who?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, this chapter gave me quite a bit of difficulty, and I'd appreciate some feedback. Alastor, thus far, has been one of my favourite characters to write, and I hope you all love him as much as I do.
> 
> L♥ xx


	5. The Wall Between Two Worlds

On the first of September, Verity awoke from a fitful sleep. A cloaked figure had been chasing her and her father, as they rode Archimedes through the forest. Since the encounter near the old Oak tree, she had suffered recurring dreams of a faceless boogie man, each one more bizarre than the next. A villainous, high-pitched laughter still rang through her head, and she winced, as she tried to focus on something – anything – else.

Rolling over, she spied something on the bedside table that made her smile. 

Verity had spent the last few weeks of the holidays sending letters back and forth to the boy in the book store. She found herself watching the windows for his family’s old barn owl, Owlbert, waiting impatiently. 

“Really? You guys named your owl, ‘Owlbert’? – V.

“Well, my parents basically named me ‘Wolf Wolf’, so we can’t really expect much, can we? – R.”

Hibou was off her perch more than she was on it, with her journeys between the Lupin’s and Foxglove Cottage becoming shorter and shorter each time. Houdini, Fenella’s ancient, long-eared owl, seemed very grateful for the peace and quiet. He had gone to Aunty Mab’s for a week when Hibou first arrived, as the newest addition was overly keen to show the old bird some affection.

As Verity read Remus’ last letter for the hundredth time, she grinned.

“Meet me at the platform? – R.”

Although they had met only once, the children had spoken every day since Flourish and Blotts. They had quickly formed a strong bond – talking from the morning, all the way through into the small hours. Towards the end of the holidays, Verity had opened up to him about the man in the woods, and her strange dreams. She had left out certain details - such as the secret organisation she had become privy to, just a few short weeks ago - but, she had asked him what he knew of ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’, the Dark Wizard terrorising Europe.

Having flipped through the Daily Prophet every morning, with his toast and his juice, since he was able to read – Remus was, in fact, quite knowledgeable on the subject. He had the answers to the questions her mother deemed ‘out of bounds’, and had no fear when it came to using his real name – Lord Voldemort. 

The newspaper had become a part of Verity’s morning ritual, too - as had pestering Alastor, Russ or any other unfortunate Order member who happened to walk in through the door. It was Remus, however, that was consistently patient, and responded to her rambling letters with care. When his knowledge of Lord Voldemort had run dry, he had regaled her with tales of Albus Dumbledore instead, and his epic defeat of the notorious wizard, Grindelwald. 

Remus, as it turns out, was a brilliant story-teller. She found much comfort in his colourful descriptions, and his unwavering loyalty towards their new headmaster. At night, she would read back over his letters as if they were bed time stories, getting lost in the epic battles that he had painted upon the pages. She felt much happier about leaving home, knowing that she would be safe at school. Surely, if Dumbledore had defeated Gellert Grindelwald, Lord Voldemort should be a piece of cake?

***

A shrill voice pierced the comfortable silence of her room at the Leaky Cauldron, making her sit bolt upright in shock,

“Vez, get up! We're going to be late!”

Scrabbling to find her clothes, and chucking her Charms textbook in to her trunk, she laughed at the irony. She and her mother had travelled down to the inn the night before, to make sure they weren’t late for the train. However, true to fashion, they found themselves racing against time. They would be meeting her father at King’s Cross Station at quarter to eleven, and – Verity checked her watch – it was now half past 10. Her mother hopped in to her room, pulling on a trainer, with her wand clamped between her teeth. As she stood up, she blew her fringe from her eyes, and raised her wand, pointing it at Verity’s trunk.

“Plumapondus!” 

The trunk became as light as a feather, and Verity was able to lift it from the ground with ease. Her mother grabbed Hibou’s cage, 

“Have you got everything?”

“Yes, mum.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, mum!” Verity said, the snappy tone of a pre-teen tainting her words, as she made for the door.

Doing one, last scan of the room, her mother followed, along the narrow corridor and down the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Tom knows we’re leaving. I squared up with him last night.” Her mother called, as she made her way out on to Charing Cross Road.

Sticking out her wand arm, the Knight Bus appeared with an obnoxious BANG! Gilly Graves descended the steps, letting out an inaudible huff, as she saw Verity’s trunk and owl,

“King’s Cross?” She muttered, boredly.

“Yes, please. Could we make it quick? We’re running quite late.” Said Fenella, as she hobbled up the steps. 

Gilly rolled her eyes, as she followed them inside. After handing over their fare, there was another loud pop. They were now outside the station, joined by two or three other families who had appeared from the gloom.

“Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t we, Nell?” Came a friendly voice from behind them. Fenella turned, and she smiled broadly, embracing the older gentleman and his wife in a warm hug.

“Monty! Effie! How lovely to see you - I forgot James would be starting this year.” Their son, James, smiled proudly. “How was the journey down? Not too bumpy, I hope?”

The Potters were good friends of Verity’s grandparents, and it was Monty who had helped her mother to set up her potion’s business. He had owned his own line of hair potions before his retirement – ‘Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment’. The products were still sold world-wide, and their adverts had even made their way on to wizarding radio. It had one of those catchy jingles, and wizards often found themselves humming it as they went about their business.

‘Two drops tames even the most bothersome bar-net!’

As their parents chattered, making their way through the station, James grinned at Verity.

“Alright, Wildey?”

His messy, black hair stuck up at odd angles, giving the distinct impression that he’d stuck his finger in a plug socket. James was the antithesis of a poster child for his father’s business. Hazel eyes glittered cheekily, and a smirk had formed on his childish face. Verity grinned, dumping her trunk on the luggage trolley Fenella had found,

“Alright, Potty. So, are you nervous?” The boy scoffed, rumpling his already messy hair.

“No, course not! I’ve been looking forward to this all Summer. Why, are you?” He teased, with Verity sneering in response.

“No…I mean, maybe a bit…but, we can’t all have your giant head, James.”

The boy pretended to scowl, before mimicking her in a girlish tone. As they reached the infamous entrance to the platform, Verity spotted her dad, who gave her a big wave. Saying goodbye to James, she ran at him with her arms outstretched, and he picked her up from the ground in a cuddle. His old biker jacket was soft from use, and smelled like leather and sandalwood – it was a familiar, calming smell.

“Sorry we’re late, we slept in!” 

John chuckled, shaking his head. “I would expect nothing less.” He paused, lowering his voice. “I hate to tell you this, babe, but I can’t find your platform anywhere. Are you sure we’re at the right station?”

“It’s not just going to be out in the open, dad, there’s a hidden entrance. Look, watch James.”

The boy and his parents, who had said their farewells to Fenella, walked with purpose towards the wall between platform 9 and 10. With a quick glance, to make sure none of the muggles were watching too closely, they slipped through the wall and disappeared. John’s face was, once again, incredulous.

“Did they just – did they just _walk_ through the _wall_?” He whispered, scratching his head. “I can’t believe I’ve been walking around, my entire life, with magic just _happening_ right in front of me…I thought I was observant.” 

As Verity giggled, she saw a family of eight shuffle up behind them. The girls and their mother were dressed in vibrant, delicately embroidered muggle garments - unlike anything Verity had ever seen - with headscarves over their sleek black hair. The parents cast cautious glances around the station, speaking to one another in a language that Verity did not recognise.

The father gently nudged one of his daughters forwards. She was rather short, with expressive brown eyes and a small, silver tabby clamped tightly in her arms. The girl’s striking red and gold dress accentuated her honeyed complexion, and made Verity feel very scruffy, in her trusty dungarees and crimson baseball trainers. She took another step toward Verity, and muttered,

“Hi. Sorry to bother you, but… how do we…you know?” Her eyes darted up to the signs, clearly stating Platform 9 and Platform 10, with no ‘9 & ¾’ in sight. 

“Well, you’re going to have to trust me on this, but…we’re walking straight through that wall.” The girl’s eyebrows went skyward in disbelief, and Verity fought to suppress a chuckle.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, her voice laced with scepticism, as she looked at the seemingly-solid brick. “I’m Chandni – Chandni Noor.”

“Come on, Vez, we’ve got to get a move on. The train’s leaving any minute!” Called her dad, with a hint of exasperation, tapping his watch.

“You go, I’m just – err – helping this family find their platform!” She turned back to Chandni, as John and Fenella disappeared with her trunk and her owl. “I’m Verity Wilde, it’s nice to meet you. Do you and your family want to follow me through?”

Once Verity had reassured the Noors that the barrier would definitely let them pass, she took a deep breath, and began to jog. She was quite nervous, having never been through it herself – at the last moment, she screwed her eyes shut, convinced she would slam in to the wall and humiliate herself.

Within seconds, she was greeted by a gust of wind, and the chatter of hundreds of voices. Before her, stood the Hogwarts Express – the beautiful, scarlet steam train Fenella had told her so much about. 

Standing off to the side, with his trunk, stood Remus and both of their parents. His blue jeans were patched at the knee, and hovering just above his ankles. His comfy, burgundy sweater was rolled up to his wrists, swamping his scrawny frame. Verity scampered towards him, beaming.

“I can’t believe it, it’s finally here - today’s the da-ay!” She sung, her whole face lit up with excitement. Remus chuckled,

“Nice of you to finally join us, Verity. We were beginning to think you’d got stuck.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him, before turning to her parents.

“Sorry, I had to help a girl through the barrier, she won’t be long! Her parents didn’t believe me, when I told them they had to walk through the wall.” She giggled, before turning back to Remus. “She should be here soon. I thought, maybe she could sit with us? It must be a bit nerve-wracking, not knowing anyone – and, she seems really sweet.” 

Remus nodded, his expression unreadable, as Chandni appeared - hair mussed, and eyes wide - looking as though she had ran at full speed. A trolley, followed by her parents and her five siblings, followed swiftly behind. Verity waved her over, smiling brightly.

“Thanks again for helping us. Dumbledore mentioned something about a wall, but it didn’t sound possible. I had visions of the train leaving without me!”

“Don't worry, that would never happen! Do you want to sit with us? We need to go and find a compartment, they’re filling up pretty quick.”

“Yes please.” Gesturing to Remus, she asked, “so, is this your brother?”

The two friends exchanged looks, puzzled. “No, this is Remus. Remus, meet Chandni.” Verity grinned, as Remus gave a small wave in response. “I’ve been bugging him all Summer, since we met at Diagon Alley.”

Remus chuckled, shaking his head.

“Poor old Owlbert’s on his last legs, I could’ve sworn he seemed relieved when I left this morning.”

“We’ve been writing to each other every day – he’s alright, I suppose.” Verity ribbed, as Remus jokingly glowered back.

“Oh! Sorry, I just assumed, because you were stood together…you know?”

“It’s okay, I guess there’s worse things than being related to Verity.” 

As he spoke, the train let out a long, loud whistle. The children turned to hug their parents goodbye - Remus’ mother looked like she didn’t want to let go, her eyes filling with tears as his father put his hand on her shoulder. Her long, yellow dress clung tight to her slim body in the breeze, and they looked as though they may have been blown away, if not for Lyall.

Chandni’s parents were giving her a lecture, as she plastered a smile on her face that didn’t quite meet her eyes. After a while, she wrapped them both in her arms, saying,

“I know, I know, I promise!”

John gave Verity a huge squeeze, planting a kiss on the top of her head, while giving Hibou a scratch through the bars of his cage. Before she knew it, her mother’s long, straight hair was tickling her nose. As Fenella held her daughter at arm’s length, she smiled warmly. 

“If you need anything, I’m only a letter away. If _anything_ happens, or you want to come home, you let me know. Okay?” 

Verity nodded, weakly, as her dream from that morning crept stealthily back in to her mind. She pushed it down, and peeked at Remus, who gave her a reassuring smile.

“Have fun, you lot!” Cried her father, as they waddled toward the train, lugging various pets and trunks.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Noor! Bye, Hope! Bye, Lyall!”

As they neared the doors, a small, chubby boy with blonde hair plastered to his head was wrestling with his luggage. His feet scrabbled against the floor, as he tried desperately to get it up the stairs. He squeaked and cursed, looking around for his parents, who seemed to be engaged in conversation with another family. His shoulders visibly drooped, defeated. Remus walked over and tapped him on the shoulder,

“Do you need some help with that?” 

The boy nodded, gratefully, and allowed Remus to squeeze past. The two of them managed to haul it up the steps, but it wasn’t an easy task. 

“Merlin, what have you got in here? A body?” Remus huffed, as he placed it on the floor. Taking out his wand from his back pocket, he flicked it casually, and said, “Plumapondus.” 

Eyes widened in awe, as Remus picked the once-heavy trunk up with ease.

“Wow! That was brilliant, how did you know that? I haven’t tried any spells yet, my parents didn’t trust me with a wand.” Said the boy, breathlessly. Remus chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks noticeably pink.

“My dad taught me a few things at home – it’s a feather-weight charm. Wish I’d used it before we heaved that thing up the steps, though.”

“Yeah, sorry. I would’ve been stuck there if it wasn’t for you.” With a nervous chuckle, he said, “I’m Peter! What’s your name?”

“I’m Remus. That’s Verity, and that’s Chandni. Do you want to sit with us?” 

Peter nodded feverishly, as Remus and the girls grabbed their luggage, and they trooped off down the narrow corridor.

***

As they made their way down the carriages, Verity heard a shout,

“Oi, Wilde! There’s room for one more!” She stopped, and saw James Potter sprawled on a seat, with a bunch of lads around him. Sirius Black sat opposite, a cheeky smile playing on his face.

“Long time no see! Terrorised any weddings, recently?” His blue-grey eyes danced with mirth, as James pretended to look sympathetic.

“Oh, you know her as well? Poor you.” He sniggered, fist-bumping his new friend. Verity narrowed her eyes, jokingly, with a hand on her hip.

“Harr harr, very funny, James. Like I’d want to sit with you, anyway! See you at the Sorting, you two…behave yourselves!” 

As she walked away, the compartment erupted once more - the noise carrying down the train as she quickened her pace, to catch up with her new friends. She felt awfully sorry for the red-haired girl, who had been curled up in the corner, looking quite upset. 

Remus and Peter had bagged a compartment a few doors down. Verity stowed Hibou and her trunk on the extended luggage rack, but not before retrieving her leather satchel. She slid in to the seat closest to the window, and tucked her bag in next to her – considering it had her wand and a few books inside, she figured she may need it later on.

The train’s whistle blew loudly, and they all began to shout and wave out the windows. Peter’s mum - a short, squat witch with his watery blue eyes - blew him a kiss, and his father stood stoic next to her. Peter grimaced as he sat down, wringing his small, pudgy hands. Remus flipped open his new briefcase, and pulled out a bar of chocolate. Handing it to the other boy, he said,

“Here - you look like you could use a pick-me-up.” 

Peter looked forlorn, the corners of his mouth drooping as he tried to hold back tears.

“I’ve never been away from home before.” His voice was small. He had turned his face towards the door, but his shuddering shoulders gave him away.

Chandni smiled kindly at him,

“That’s okay, Peter, I’ve never been away from my parents, either.”

“Nor me!”

“Me, neither.” Added Remus, quietly.

Without warning, raucous laughter erupted from down the hall. Verity heard Sirius Black’s unmistakable voice yell, ‘See ya, Snivellus!’, as a door slammed shut. Verity groaned, knowing her friends were up to no good. 

A moment later, the redhead from Sirius and James’ compartment, and a pasty boy with long, black hair, had appeared in the doorway. Her face was blotchy, and she was visibly seething.

“Do you mind if we sit with you?”

Chandni and Peter squashed up, so that the girl and her friend could sit beside them. She sat down in a huff, as her friend slithered in to the seat opposite. Verity noticed he was already wearing his school robes, which bunched around him and appeared to be a few sizes too big. He gave a curt nod, seeming quite uncomfortable. He looked imploringly at the girl, though she seemed to be avoiding his gaze. After a minute or so of awkward silence, Verity spoke.

“Are you alright? Only, we couldn’t help over-hearing…” 

“No, not particularly. The compartment next door seems to have a bad infestation of toads, and unfortunately, we were caught in the middle.” She bristled, crossing her arms. 

Verity stifled a snigger. “Sorry about them. I told them to behave, but they can’t help themselves.” 

The girl’s bright green eyes flashed, as she turned to look at her.

“Oh, yes, I remember you. Friends of yours, are they?” She inquired.

“Well, let’s just say - I’ve had the misfortune to know them for most of my life.” Verity countered, with a wolfish grin. “I’m not surprised they’ve found each other, they must have a radar for idiots.” 

“Yeah, or arrogant toads.” Said the girl, with a half-smile. “I’m Lily, by the way. This is my friend, Sev.”

He looked up, and gave a brief, forced smile, his lank hair falling in to his eyes. 

In a last-ditch attempt to save the mood, Verity pulled out her Exploding Snap cards; her mother had said they would be a good ice-breaker.

“Anyone want a game?” The children all agreed, after a bit of coaxing from Lily, and the game had begun.

***

After six rounds of Snap - which Remus seemed to dominate, with quick reflexes and an unintentionally heavy hand - the awkwardness had dissipated. The first hour had gone by rather quickly, punctured by shrieks of laughter each time the cards had detonated. A peace had descended over the compartment, as they chattered quietly between themselves. 

Lily and Sev sat closest to the sliding door. His face lit up every time she laughed, and he seemed to forget that there was anyone else in the room. They seemed to be very close. As Verity watched, she felt something curl around her feet - Chandni’s silver tabby had come over to say hello.

“Meet Jinks, or Juju, my cat-baby.” 

Verity made a big fuss of her, scratching behind her ears and marvelling at her beautifully soft fur.

“I heard you mention Dumbledore on the platform, did he pop round to see you, too? I got a letter, but he dropped in to see Remus and his family.” 

Chandni giggled, “He’s crazy, isn’t he? I thought my dad was going to faint when he opened the door – didn’t know what to make of him, in his wizard robes! He invited himself in, and my mum ended up making him dinner - it was so funny. I don’t think they believed him, at first…”

“Ahh, lucky! My letter seems so boring, now. So, you’re muggleborn, then? They must have been so shocked. How did he prove it? - That he was a wizard, I mean?”

“I think once he levitated the tea cups off the side, they started to get the gist. Magic’s, um, not something we think highly of in our religion.”

“Oh, really?” Verity was shocked. How could anyone dislike magic?

“Yeah – it’s what’s known as ‘haram’. Taboo, you know?” Chandni looked down, playing with the golden threads on her clothes. “I think they were quite afraid, at first. They’ve always known I had these ‘abilities’, but we never spoke of them, especially to other people. Then, he asked them if I’d ever been involved in any ‘strange incidents’. Obviously, that was a yes.”

“Me too! I’m always getting in to trouble, no one ever seems to believe it was an accident.” Verity snickered, her mouth quirking up on one side.

“I know, right? One time, I got in a fight with my older sister, and her hair turned green…they couldn’t prove it was me, of course, but they still blamed me for it. ‘Chandni Noor, I don’t know what you did, but you put this right! She looks like a bloody cabbage patch doll! What will the neighbours say?’ My sister was crying, I’ve never seen my mum so angry.”

“I’m guessing she still hasn’t forgiven you, then?”

“No, not quite. Now that we know I’m a witch, I think it’s rekindled the flames.” Verity snorted, before noticing that Chandni had stayed silent. The girl tried to rearrange her pained expression, and asked, “So, are your parents magic, then? I’m the first witch in my family…that we know of, anyway.”

“My mum’s a witch, and my dad’s a muggle, so I’m the best of both.” Chandni’s face scrunched in confusion. “Sorry, a muggle is someone who isn’t…err, magic?”

“Oh! So, you’ve grown up around magic, then? That must have been nice - this is all new to me.”

“My mum’s in the potions gig, so I grew up fighting magic plants in my conservatory, and caring for beasties in the forest around my house. I went to a muggle school, though, so I’ve always had to hide it from everyone, too…they all thought I was a bit weird, even without the magical back story.” 

Chandni shot her a sympathetic look, “I don’t think you’re weird, I think you’re really nice.” 

Verity blushed, as Jinx jumped in to her lap, purring as she made herself comfortable. “Thanks, Chandni. I think you’re nice, too.”

The girls nattered animatedly. Verity gave her a play-by-play of her ‘First Wand Experience’. In turn, she listened as Chandni described all the wonderful creatures in The Magical Menagerie – she had to really convince her parents to allow her to have a cat.

“It’s basically the symbol of a witch, isn’t it, a cat? It’s the witchiest thing you can get!”

“That’s true,” replied Verity, thoughtfully, “I’ve got two cats at home, so I went for an owl instead. That’s how we send all of our mail - they’re like tiny, flying post-men! You could always use mine, though, or I’m sure my mum mentioned something about school owls…”

“Yes, Dumbledore told us about the Owlery. So handy. Mum’s made me promise to write at least twice a week, so I can imagine I’ll be in there quite a bit.” 

Verity looked at Remus, who was speaking quietly with Peter. The scars on his face caught the sunlight, and she found herself studying them - wondering, once again, where they had come from. He must have noticed her staring, because he blushed and fumbled his words, scratching his nose.

“Have I got something on my face?” 

“Oh! No – err, just zoning out. Sorry. Long day.”

“Are you alright, True?”

“True? I thought your name was Verity?” Peter interjected, his brows pinched in confusion.

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “Verity means truth - it’s from the Latin, ‘Veritas’. I think it’s clever.” 

She grinned at him, her cheeks rosy. “Yeah, my family’s pretty ‘in’ to all the Roman and Greek mythology. You wouldn’t believe what they were going to call me. It’s my middle name instead - my dad wasn’t having it.”

“Go on, spill.” Said Chandni, giving her a cheeky nudge.

“No.” 

As Chandni pouted, Verity shot Remus a look that said ‘don’t you dare’.

The door to the compartment slid open, and a kindly witch stood with a cart full of the infamous Honeydukes sweets. It was Verity’s favourite shop in Hogsmeade, and she often bullied her aunt in to taking her when she went to visit.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Her eyes bulged as she saw all the delicious goodies. Peter had already whipped out his drawstring purse, wiggling his fingers inside to fish out a few coins. She looked from Chandni, to Remus, who both seemed to be quite disappointed.

“Nothing for me, thanks.” 

“Nor me. I’ve got my stash.” 

Verity shook her head – this would not do. As Lily and Peter bought a chocolate frog each, and a few jelly sweets, Verity turned to her other friends.

“If you could have anything from the cart, what would it be?”

“Chocolate. Hands down, every time,” said Remus, at lightning speed. He gave a defeated sigh, as he sank back in to his seat, “but, I’m sure I’ll be able to get some next time.”

Chandni peered down the list of items,

“Honestly, I’m alright. It all looks really good, though…” She stopped herself, smiling sheepishly.

Verity noticed Severus hadn’t bought anything, either. Making a decision, she turned to the witch, and said,

“Four Chocolate Frogs, six bars of your best chocolate, and a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees, please!”

Remus and Chandni began protest, as the Honeydukes witch began to pile chocolate and sweets in to striped paper bags. Verity chucked a frog at Severus, who caught it with surprise.

“Thanks, True.” Said Remus, quietly, taking his portion and popping all but the Frog in to his briefcase. Chandni’s eyes were wide, as she examined the magical treats.

“Yeah, thanks True. This is really kind of you.”

Verity waved them off with a flick of her wrist, as she ripped open the packaging with zero elegance. Inspecting her card, she exclaimed, “I’ve got a phoenix! I’ve been looking for this for ages. What have you guys got?” Chandni yelped, as the frog tried to hop out of the box. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot to warn you – they’re sneaky little buggers.”

Lily regarded her box with suspicion, before cautiously tearing it open.

“I’ve got Bridget Wenlock.” She said, “Oh, that’s interesting! She discovered the magical properties of the number 7.” 

“Dymphna Furmage, famous for being abducted by pixies!” Chandni said with a giggle.

“Ug the Unreliable.” Groaned Peter, shoving his card in his pocket. “I only collect the wizard ones.”

“Who have you got, Sevvy?” Asked Lily, in an interested tone. He grinned back at her,

“Merwyn the Malicious. My mother has some books about him - he invented a lot of...interesting spells.”

“How about you, Remus?” Said Verity, trying to sneak a peek.

“Mungo Bonham, the founder of St. Mungo’s.”

“What’s St. Mungo’s?” Asked Chandni, curiously.

“It’s the wizarding hospital in London,” explained Verity, “I had to stay over-night there when I was little, once – bad case of the Mumblemumps.” 

“Oh.” Said Chandni. She pulled a face at Lily, who was also muggleborn, and received a similar look of confusion in return.

***

The sky outside had started to darken - they had been on the train for hours. The children had pulled their robes on as it neared six o’ clock, hoping that the journey would not take much longer. Chandni had also changed out of her shalwar-kameez, and into jeans and a comfy jumper. 

Verity felt restless, as she tapped her foot along to a silent beat. Peter had fallen asleep against Remus, who had pulled his reading glasses out of his briefcase and begun to flick through his Herbology textbook. Chandni had her wand out, and was practicing spells.

“Lumos!” She said, looping it through the air. As the tip began to glow, she squealed in delight, before swishing it again in a wave-like motion, saying “Nox.” The light went out, and her eyes glittered with triumph. Verity followed suit.

“Lumos!” She whispered, and gasped as the tip shone. Copying Chandni, she extinguished it, and gave her a high-five. Lily, who had been watching them from the corner of her eye, turned to Severus and said,

“Have you tried any magic yet, Sev?”

“Just a couple of spells.” He smirked, oozing a surprising amount of confidence, for someone who had been so quiet. Lily beamed,

“Oh, you're so lucky! I couldn't practice at home. The Charms book was fascinating, though, I can’t wait to give it a go.”

“Personally, I was interested in jinxes and hexes.” His tone dropped, as he muttered, “I can think of a couple of people I could use for target-practice.” 

Lily raised an eyebrow, lowering her voice to match his. “Just ignore them, Severus. There’s no point getting in to trouble over people like that, they aren’t worth it.”

As he went to reply, a voice echoed through the train: 

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

“Guys? Guys, look - it’s the castle!”

Verity shoved her face against the glass, jostled by her friends as they all tried to catch their first glimpse of Hogwarts. On top of a cliff, stood something from a fairy-tale – with turrets and towers jutting above the immense stone walls. The lights from the windows twinkled on the smooth surface of a vast lake. 

A warm glow spread through her body, lighting up her face. In that instant, she knew she was _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a monster chapter, sorry folks. I'll be making minor edits to chapter 4 over the next few days, but I'll let you all know when it's done - I don't feel like it's as polished as the rest.
> 
> This was fun to write, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> L♥ xx


	6. The Four Houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact time!
> 
> Tadhg is pronounced Tige, like 'Tiger' but without the 'R' 🙃 it's a common Irish name.

Verity stumbled out on to the platform, the wind biting at her face. Pulling her robes closer, she linked arms with Chandni, and grabbed Remus’ hand - she did not want them to get separated. Remus reached for the back of Peter’s cloak, but his fingertips slipped over the velvety fabric, as he was swallowed by the crowd.

“Oops.”

“Don’t worry, Remus, it’s not like he can get lost.”

“I dunno,” Said Verity, with a grin, “If anyone could get lost on school grounds, my money would be on Peter.”

A large figure loomed towards them, carrying a glowing lantern. He was as tall as the train, and as wide as the three friends put together - the heads of even the tallest students barely reached his chest.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, now - watch yer step, there, it’s a bit slippy. Firs' years follow me!"

As the children pushed their way to the side of the station, the giant’s features became clearer. Underneath a wild mane, and a dark, bristly beard, peeked kindly eyes and a warm, broad smile.

“The name’s Hagrid – Groundskeeper o’ Hogwarts - I’ll be yer guide this evenin’. If ye’d like to follow me, I’ll take yeh to the boats.”

“Boats?” Whispered Chandni, as they surged forward toward a tight track, leading off from the station. Their eyes took a moment to adjust to the night, but, even then, they could barely see a foot in front of them.

Chandni and Verity tittered and shrieked, holding each other up as they slid down the steep, winding path. Remus shook his head, laughing at them as they wobbled their way to the bottom. 

“Yeah, yeah – keep laughing, Lupin, it’ll be you next!” Joked Verity. He caught her elbow in the nick of time, as her legs buckled underneath her. 

“I highly doubt it, I’m not nearly as clumsy as you.”

He was right. Remus was handling the sticky slope with a grace that the other students did not possess – he had not slipped once, and the dark did not seem to faze him at all.

“Well, some of us aren’t gifted with superhuman reflexes.”

Before Remus could reply, Chandni squealed, and clung to Verity as they nearly toppled over, giggling. Hagrid chuckled gruffly, clearing his throat.

“If ye’ didn’t get a chance on the train, yer in luck. First glimpse o’ the castle, jus’ round the corner.” 

Like Remus, he seemed to have no trouble at all navigating the path – Verity assumed that his ginormous boots were sinking in to the mud, giving him a firm foothold. 

As they rounded the bend, there was a smattering of ‘Ooooh!’ and ‘Ahhhhh!’, as the castle stood, cliff-side, in all of its glory. Verity didn’t think that she would ever get bored of that view.

“Right then, ev’ryone. Four to a boat, no messing about.” He called, eyeing James and Sirius in particular. Verity had seen them racing each other down the track, roaring with laughter and almost knocking people off their feet.

Peter appeared next to them, huffing and puffing, the back of his robes slick with mud.

“That hill was a bit unnecessary, wasn’t it?” He squeaked. His face was scrunched with pain, kneading his side as he tried to will his stitch away.

Remus chuckled, patting his back, as they made their way towards the fleet of small boats at the side of the lake. Verity looked for Lily and Severus, but it was too dark to make out anyone’s faces.

"Everyone in?" Shouted Hagrid, his own little boat looked as though it may sink under his weight. "Alright, then, if we’re all ready - FORWARD!"

The boats moved as one, floating effortlessly as they made their way towards the cliff face. Verity dipped her hand in the cool water, letting her fingers run through it as they sped across the flat surface. Suddenly, something very large and slimy curled over her hand, making her yelp.

“Eurgh - something touched me!”

“It was probably the squid!” Said Peter, his hands drawing up to his chest, as he peered in to the inky black.

“The _squid_?” Whispered Chandni, hoarsely, with a look of pure horror.

“Oh yeah, the giant squid. He lives in the lake – I forgot about him.” Said Verity, placing her hand back in the water with a grin. Chandni yanked it out again.

“What are you doing? What if it pulls you in?”

“He’s really friendly! Mum and her friends used to swim with him at break time. There’s a rumour that he’s really one of the Founders...and that he’s guarding a secret treasure.” She said, her eyebrows wiggling conspiratorially. 

As her fingers laced through the water, she felt someone watching her. Looking up, she realised it was Remus, the corners of his mouth twitched up in amusement. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He replied, “Don’t expect me to fish you out if you fall in, though.”

“Gee, thanks. My hero!”

***

"Mind yer heads!" Came a shout, as they slid through a large opening in the cliff, hidden by a thick curtain of ivy. A gloomy tunnel carried them towards a small, stony harbour. Chandni and Verity hopped out, and waited patiently as Remus helped Peter clamber on to the shore - he nearly ended up with a face full of pebbles, after getting his foot caught in his robes.

A narrow passageway, lit only by the swinging lantern, led them out on to a sweeping lawn. In front of them, stood the steps leading up to the castle. With one gargantuan fist, the groundskeeper knocked three times on the enormous oak doors.

Creaking open, they revealed a stern witch dressed in forest green robes. Her raven hair was pulled up in to a tight bun, and she regarded them all with a curt smile.

“Here they are, Professor McGonagall.”

“Thank you, Hagrid.” 

Hagrid bowed his head, as the first years began to trickle into a cavernous lobby, lit only by flaming torches. A short way away, Verity could see a stunning marble staircase, splitting as it rose out of sight.

Through a doorway to their right, Verity could hear the low hum of voices, and she cringed - the cold creep of nerves prickling across her skin. Knowing she would have to walk, in front of hundreds of other students, somehow made her feel even worse. Her stomach started to wriggle unpleasantly, as the professor directed them in to a smaller room to the left.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. Before the start-of-term banquet can begin, you will be sorted into your school houses. This ceremony is one of the most important events you will experience within these walls - during your time here, your house will be like your family. You will spend most of your free time in your common room, and sleep in your allocated dormitories. Classes are usually split by house, but you may find yourself sharing the lesson with others. This is a perfect time to make friends with other students, and is greatly encouraged.

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin each have their own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. House points will be awarded for good work, kindness and outstanding achievements, while anything deemed as bad behaviour will lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the great honour of the House Cup. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will start shortly - I suggest you all take these moments to smarten yourselves up, as much as you can, while you are waiting."

Out of the corner of her eye, Verity saw James nervously flatten his hair, cursing as it sprang back in to place.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

As she left the chamber, Chandni rounded on her friends, her face taut.

“How are we Sorted in to houses? I don’t remember Dumbledore mentioning this at all.”

“I don’t know, actually, my mum never told me. Remus? Peter?”

“…I don’t know, either. It’s not spoken about in any of the books I’ve read, and mum and dad conveniently left this part out.” 

Peter shrugged, pulling a face. “Beat’s me, I just thought we’d be divvied up.”

“Oi, Potter - Potter!” Verity hissed, as people around her ‘shushed’.

“What?”

“How do they sort us in to houses?”

James’ face fell, biting his lip as he went quiet. He pushed his way through the crowd, amid quiet protests - Sirius followed, looking just as perplexed as the rest of them.

“I dunno, y’know.’ He stopped next to them, and looked at his new friend. “My parents never mentioned it. Did yours?”

“Nope. Must be some kind of secret. Maybe we have to do a test? Or, some kind of battle royale? Only the strong survive.” Joked Sirius, as James cracked up.

“A test?” Moaned Chandni, “I knew I should have practiced more on the train!”

From behind them, several people screamed, and one even tried to run for the door. Verity turned, to see a large number of cloudy figures hovering above their heads.

“Good evening! No need to be alarmed, we’re just passing through.” Said a portly monk, with a kind smile. Chandni froze, as the ghosts passed through the side wall.

“I…I've never seen a ghost before.”

“Clearly.” Said Sirius, with a snort.

“Form a line, please, students!” Verity jumped, as the brisk voice of Professor McGonagall cut above the chatter.

***

Verity gasped as they entered the Great Hall. The ceiling was bewitched with a multitude of floating candles, which lay below a ceiling that perfectly mimicked the sky. Stars sparkled through the blackest of nights, with not a cloud to be seen. The moon looked as though it had been hooked on a fishing line, and reeled towards them. Nudging Chandni, she pointed upwards, and the her friend’s face lit up, as the enchantment reflected in her dark eyes like a galaxy.

Underneath, stood four, long tables, lined with the expectant faces of older students. Each was laid with plates and goblets of pure gold, glowing in the candlelight. Above each table, hung majestic banners in the house colours, with their name and mascot on a coat of arms. As Verity swung round, she spotted a table at the top, where teachers sat waiting patiently. Hagrid, the man from the boats, beamed at them all as they waited, between long swigs from his cup. Her Aunty Peg caught her eye, where she sat with Russ, both giving her a little wave with grins to rival the Cheshire Cat. Verity blushed, throwing them a quick thumb’s up in return - how _mortifying_.

Professor McGonagall had placed a four-legged stool in front of them, which looked rather spindly. There, she set an ancient, crooked hat – careworn and filthy. 

‘What did it do, though?’ Thought Verity. ‘Would they have to perform some kind of spell?’

A flurry of whispers broke out between the first years, before the professor shushed them, her beady eyes demanding silence. The hat seemed to come to life, as a crude mouth formed near the brim. Unexpectedly, it began to sing:

“When Hogwarts School had just begun,  
I was merely a crooked hat,  
I belonged to dear old Godric,  
On his lofty head, I sat.

I had no brains, nor charming voice,  
I was thick as two short planks,  
Until, one day, the Founders four,  
Brought me in to their ranks.

From my seat, I had been plucked,  
Filled with all this witty stuff,  
To divvy up the diligent,  
the smart, the crafty, and tough.

Gryffindor, he chose the daring,  
The courageous and the bold,  
For Hufflepuff, hard-workers,  
With pure hearts of solid gold,

Ravenclaw valued wisdom,  
She sought this in new additions,  
While Slytherin picked the students,  
That showed cunning and ambition,

They lived and worked in harmony,  
By these rules, they abided,  
Until one day, their differences,  
Caused them to be divided.

For Helga thought the purest heart,  
Was what mattered the most,  
While Salazar argued purest blood,  
Was sole reason to boast,

Upon this sword, our mighty school,  
To her knees, she almost fell,  
I fear history repeating,  
In these dark days as well.

One sets to cause a rift,  
To forge a wall between,  
I pray you form alliances,  
We must work as a team.

Heed my words, don’t brush them off,  
Because I speak the truth,  
My job may be to sort you,  
But, I find it quite uncouth.

You see, I believe in unity:  
One school, one mind, one heart,  
For it is not our roots,  
But our deeds that set us apart.

If we could work together,  
Great friendships, you may find,  
In a world where you can be anything,  
Above all else, be kind.

Uneasy applause broke out, as the hat bowed to the four tables and fell silent. Verity felt more nauseous than she had before, as she mulled over the cryptic warning. Both Chandni and Remus held similar expressions, bleak and brooding respectively. Peter seemed to be one of the few students who looked relieved,

“Well, at least it isn’t a test, eh? They would have sent me home!” He said, as he chortled happily. Verity managed a shaky smile, raising her eyebrows at Chandni.

A hush fell over the hall, as Professor McGonagall stepped forward. Straightening a roll of parchment, she said,

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat, and sit on the stool. The hat will tell you which house to go to.”

Verity felt the wriggle of nerves in her stomach bubble up again. Why, oh why, did her surname begin with ‘W’? Why couldn’t it have been ‘A’? She would have even settled for ‘E’, if it meant she wasn’t going to have to wait so long…

“Abebe, Yolanda.”

A young witch tripped forward, shuffling awkwardly towards the stool. Placing the hat on her dark, braided hair, it thought for only a moment, before shouting, 

“Hufflepuff!”

Smiling nervously, she made her way towards the table on the right, who were clapping and cheering.

Sufia Amin, Bertram Aubrey and Ava Avalon were all sorted swiftly in to Ravenclaw, much to the delight of the table second on the left. A thin, pointy-faced boy, by the name of Alistair Avery, barely sat down before the hat had sorted him in to Slytherin, on the far right of the hall. 

Each time the houses were called, their respective tables welcomed them with a cacophony of welcoming cheers. The list went on – Bagman, Barclay, and then,

“Black, Sirius.” 

The hall fell silent once more, as Sirius sauntered to the stool. The seconds ticked by, as Sirius seemed to be caught in a silent tussle with the hat. Verity could see him mumbling under his breath, but she was no good at lip-reading. Suddenly, the hat opened its frayed brim,

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

The Gryffindors clapped and stamped their feet, but the sound was not loud enough to drown out the shocked susurrations that emanated from the Slytherin table. Narcissa Black, Sirius' older cousin, was watching the scene with a mixture of incredulity and horror - eyes wide, with a dainty, lily-white hand placed over her mouth. Sirius threw James a thumb’s up, setting his eyes forward as he padded off to join his new house.

Blight, Bones, Buckland, Catchlove, Cedar, Chakrabarti, Chowdhury, Chen, Chopra, Cullen…Verity couldn’t keep track. She fidgeted and squirmed as Professor McGonagall made her way through the D’s, and then the E’s, unable to stand still for this long.

“Evans, Lily!”

Verity looked up, to see Lily tottering towards the stool. The hat had barely grazed her fiery locks, before it roared,

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Severus groaned, his shoulders drooping, as Lily looked back at him and gave a small, sad smile. As she sat down, she saw Sirius Black grinning back at her. Scowling, she turned her back on him, folding her arms in defiance. Verity giggled, nudging Chandni,

“Taking bets on how long Lily can hold a grudge.”

Chandni pretended to think,

“Forever? Beyond the grave? In to her next life?” 

Both girls tried to suppress their laughter, as McGonagall shot them a hard stare. 

“Everard, Roland!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Fallow, Francesca!” 

A slight girl, with pale eyes and an abundance of curly, blonde hair bounced towards the chair, with an expression of unbridled excitement. She stuffed the hat on her head, crossing her fingers and clamping her eyes shut.

“RAVENCLAW!”

With a squeak, she scampered off to join the table adorned in blue and bronze.

Fawley, Fenwick, Fews…Verity zoned out as the noise peaked and troughed, instead looking up at the ceiling. The floating candles and twinkling stars were making her feel sleepy. She was jolted from her reverie, when she heard the stern, raven-haired professor call,

“Lupin, Remus!”

“Good luck!” She whispered. He managed a feeble smile, his face slightly green as he plodded off towards the stool. To his surprise, the hat was on his head for a matter of seconds, before it roared,

“GRYFFINDOR!”

He beamed at her, thanking professor McGonagall before making his way over to the cheering Gryffindors. Verity felt like cheering, too. She gave him a small wave as he sat down, then turned to Chandni, who was looking a little grey.

“I can’t handle all this tension, I feel like I’m going to explode.” Verity grabbed her hand,

“Tell me about it. Shall we just push everyone out the way? I can’t wait any longer.” 

The girls snickered, while Professor McGonagall threw them another disapproving look. James sidled up to them, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Can’t take you anywhere, can I? Trust you to already be making trouble. I’m gonna tell your mam.”

“Go away, Potter, or I’ll tell your dad you let off dungbombs at breakfast.”

“Now you’re just giving me ideas, Vez. Don’t fuel the fire.” 

McGonagall gave them another silent warning, eyes beady and mouth pinched, as Tadhg McCarthy was sorted in to Gryffindor. He was followed to the table by Marlene McKinnon. Lily dived on this opportunity, and shuffled up to make room between her and Sirius. 

Davina McCullick ambled dreamily over to the Hufflepuffs, before Dorcas Meadowes promptly tripped and fell right in front of the stool. Ziba had mentioned that her daughter would be starting this year, too. Brushing herself off, she grinned as she felt the hat alight on her puff of dark hair. A second later, the hat bellowed,

“RAVENCLAW!” 

She did a half-jog across the hall, where she plonked herself down next to Francesca, who was investigating the golden goblets. 

As Verity looked back at the Gryffindors, Lily looked somewhat relieved - she had managed to considerably widen the gap between herself and her new enemy, and was chatting animatedly with Marlene. Remus was making conversation with Sirius across the table. The two were polar opposites – one with a polite smile and the occasional cocked brow, his arms folded on the table in front - the other talking with his hands, gesturing exuberantly, with a smile that showed his teeth.

Chandni’s eyes darted between all the tables - her grip on Verity’s hand uncomfortably tight. Verity could practically hear the cogs ticking, as she tried to figure out which House she would be in. She gave her friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze. As it neared her name, Chandni seemed to be torn between excitement and panic.

“Noor, Chandni.” 

Taking a deep breath, she strode towards the stool, clamping her eyes shut as the hat was placed on her head. The hat deliberated for a mere thirty seconds or so, before deciding,

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Verity threw her a thumbs up, as her friend returned the sentiment, and scampered off to sit with Remus. They high-fived as she reached the table, before waving at Verity, who waved back. 

Peter had gone white, and was visibly sweating – large, pearly beads rolling down his forehead. She put her hand on his shoulder, and smiled encouragingly at him. James rolled his eyes, as he stood with his arms crossed and a confident smile playing on his lips. Peter didn’t have to wait long, as the hat whipped through a handful of students before their professor cried,

“Pettigrew, Peter!” With a squeak, he scurried off, wringing his clammy hands.

All eyes were on him, as the hat sat in complete silence. As the minutes dragged on, whispers erupted around the hall, followed by pockets of laughter. Verity felt a twinge of sympathy for him, as the boy flushed red and his knuckles shone white. He was gripping the stool so hard, that she thought it may snap in two. James tapped his foot, impatience exuding from every pore. He groaned loudly as another minute slipped by.

“Maybe he’s a squib.” James mused. Verity tutted, throwing him a look. “Don’t get your wand in a knot, Wildey, I’m only joking.”

As he spoke, the brim of the hat opened to shout,

“GRYFFINDOR!”

As the noise began to settle, Professor McGonagall called,

“Potter, James!” He winked at Verity, and gave her a nudge.

“Catch you on the flip side!”

The hat barely scuffed his dishevelled mop, before it roared,

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Smirking, he joined the bellowing Gryffindor table, sliding in next to Sirius. They fist-bumped, before engaging in low conversation, shooting looks at Verity as she tried to ignore them. She was going to kill them both before their time was up, she just knew it.

McGonagall pressed on through the list, and Verity felt like her feet were going numb. She discreetly rocked from one to the other, looking wistfully at the benches that ran alongside the house tables. She watched as Severus was sorted in to Slytherin, greeted with a warm welcome by the strapping Slytherin prefect.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, McGonagall called,

“Wilde, Verity.”

She gulped as she sat down hard on the wooden stool, feeling a large, leathery hat slip down past her ears. It smelt musty, and was rather damp inside the rim. She jumped, as a voice in her head, said,

“You’re a Hayworth-Fraser witch, aren’t you? Yes…long line of Gryffindors. You’d do well in Ravenclaw, though, you’ve got the smarts for it…” Verity shook her head,

“I’d rather be in Gryffindor, thanks.”

The hat chuckled, 

“Better stick with tradition, then, eh?” The hat paused for a moment, before howling, “…GRYFFINDOR!”

A feeling of elation spread through Verity’s chest, as the Gryffindor table erupted. She cringed as she heard James and Sirius whooping and cat-calling, stamping their feet and banging their goblets, making her cheeks flush. She stuck her tongue out at them, before she locked eyes with Remus, who was grinning from ear to ear. He whispered to Chandni, who scooched over to make room. Verity felt like she was walking on air. Chandni embraced her as she sat down,

“What are the odds, eh? We’ve all made it in to the same House!”

Verity saw Lily’s smile falter, as she looked across the room to the Slytherin table. 

“Well, not all of us.” She muttered. Chandni shot her a sympathetic smile.

“You heard what McGonagall said, though – we’re expected to mingle, so I’m sure you’ll see loads of Sev!”

James’ ears pricked up.

“What, Snivellus? Why would you want to hang around with him, when you’ve got all of us?”

Lily scowled, her head whipping round to reveal an expression of disgust.

“Well, he’s much better company than you, Potter.”

“OooO!”

“Shut up, toad.”

“Come on, James, drop it. He’s her friend, we should be nice.”

“Ah, come on. I was only speaking the truth – surely you can appreciate that?”

“Ugh. Go away, Flea, you’re making me itch.”

“Oh ho, she’s True-ly pissed now.”

“She can’t handle the truth!” Sirius cackled, as Verity rolled her eyes.

“You can’t be Sirius, can you? That was a poor effort.”

“I’m always Sirius, Trudy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting! A bit of a filler, but we're finally at Hogwarts. Yay.
> 
> Feedback is always greatly appreciated - let me know what you think!
> 
> L♥ xx


	7. Mischief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, is it me you're looking for? 😇
> 
> I'm back, from the real world, to give you chapter 7.
> 
> Sorry it's been so long, hope you enjoy!
> 
> L♥ xx

As she followed the Gryffindor Prefects through the hole in the wall, Verity could still taste the cinnamon from the apple crumble playing on her tongue. She glanced longingly at the cosy-looking armchairs and thick blankets, sat neatly in front of the open fire, as the two fifth years asked them all to gather round.

“Okay, listen up!” Said Mallory, with a clap of her calloused hands. She had a thick bush of curly, red hair, and shoulders to rival any rugby player. “Girls to the left, boys to the right. Your dorms will be at the top of the stairs, and your names will be on the door – no swapping. Your stuff should be there waiting for you. Any questions?”

“What time’s curfew?” Asked James, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Mallory eyed him with suspicion.

“Nine o’ clock. Why?”

“Oh, I just want to make sure we’re all sticking to the rules, you know? Not making any mischief.” Next to him, Sirius looked like butter wouldn’t melt, but Verity knew better.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in trouble on our first night, would we?” His eyes glittered cheekily, paired with a toothy grin. Verity shot him a look, and he winked, a lock of dark hair falling over his face. Mallory looked between the two boys, her eyes narrowed and her mouth scrunched in to a small, rosy knot.

“I’ve got my eye on you.”

“I can’t blame you – we’re quite handsome.” Scowling, she cleared her throat.

“If there aren’t any more questions, we’d better get you upstairs. Girls, follow me. Boys, you’re with Rodge.”

As the students were ushered towards their respective staircases, Verity saw James and Sirius whispering to one another, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She watched as Remus shook his head, following them up the stairs with a trace of his usual lop-sided grin. Verity couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to.

***

“I hope we’re in the same dorm.” Whispered Chandni, as they trooped up the stone steps.

“Well, I know Mallory said ‘no swapping’, but she can kiss a bludger.”

“…I don’t know what that means, but you can’t just make someone move, can you?”

“Well, no. I’ve still got some sweets in my bag, though. Think they’d accept a bribe?”

“Hmm. I’m sure we could persuade at least one person.”

They needn’t have worried. Arriving at the top of the tower, there were three doors, with lines of gold script etched in to each. As Verity dragged her finger down the first set of names, squinting, she grinned.

“Lily, Marlene? Over here!” Opening the door to ‘Dorm 1’, she was met with the sight of four four-poster beds, their own wardrobe each, and an en-suite bathroom. “Fancy.” She murmured to Chandni, who stood with her mouth agape.

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful room. Is this all ours?”

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

The beds seemed to be in alphabetical order, as Lily’s was first, and Verity’s was last. Hibou greeted her with a flap of his wings, nipping at the cage door. As she went to set him free, she noticed that Jinks was already curled up on Chandni’s pillow. She glared reproachfully at Marlene’s tortoiseshell, who was playing with the curtain ties.

Verity sank on to her bed, checking the mattress with a bounce. “Well, this is probably the comfiest bed I’ve ever sat on.”

“Tell me about it.” Said Marlene, throwing herself backwards and snuggling in to her pillow. “When they said we’d be sharing dorms, I didn’t expect this!”

“I feel like I’ve been transported back in time.” Whispered Lily, the scarlet velvet curtains slipping through her fingers.

“It’s so beautiful. The feast, too - when all that food appeared on the table, my eyes nearly popped out my head!” 

“I could eat that crumble all day, every day, for the rest of my life.” The girls let out groans of delight, giggling as they started to unpack their trunks.

“So, do any of you have brothers or sisters at Hogwarts?” Asked Verity, clumsily folding a pair of jeans.

“No, I’m not from a wizarding family. My parents are…what do you guys call it? Muggles?” Said Marlene, neatly tucking her shoes in to the bottom of the closet. “I have a younger sister, Elizabeth. She’s really in to dancing, and she’s the baby of the family, but I don’t think she’s a witch.”

“Hasn’t she shown any signs?”

“No, not really. With me, it was pretty obvious - I mean, she could be hiding it really well, but - Betty’s a goody two-shoes. I don’t think she’d be able to keep up the act for this long.”

“I’m from a muggle family, too. None of my older sisters are witches, but I have a feeling at least one of my little sisters will be. We’re all so alike.”

“How many sisters do you have?”

“Five.”

“You’re so lucky! I don’t have any siblings.”

“It isn’t always good – more people to steal your clothes and eat your snacks.” As the three girls laughed, Lily was unnaturally quiet, her face hidden as she rifled through her chest.

“I’m muggleborn, too. My older sister, Petunia…I think she’s a bit jealous. We used to be really close, but since I met Sevvy and learnt about magic, she doesn’t really want much to do with me. I know she wanted to come to Hogwarts, though – she even wrote Dumbledore a letter. Sev and I found it…she hasn’t forgiven me yet.” Tears rolled down her rosy cheek, and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her robe.

“Is that why you were so upset on the train?”

Lily nodded, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to hide her face behind the lid of her trunk. Verity crossed the room, knelt down, and wrapped her in a tight hug. She began to cry – deep, wracking sobs. Verity’s grip tightened, as she held her new friend, realising that this had clearly been affecting her more than she had let on. No wonder she was in such a foul mood earlier. Not to mention, she was probably homesick, too.

“Hey – hey now, it’s okay! I’m sure she’ll come around. Family’s far more important than that, right?”

Lily gave a half-smile, looking unconvinced.

“You don’t know Tuney – she’s the queen of holding grudges.”

“Well, if I had a sister like you, I’d be proud.” Looking around at the other girls, she said, “Guys, are you getting in on this? You know you want to.” Marlene jumped off the bed, her blonde hair swishing as she landed.

“Go on, then.”

“Group hug!” Chandni joined the embrace, giggling.

From beneath the tangle of arms, Lily started to smile.

“Thanks, guys. This really means a lot, you barely know me.”

“Well, we’ve got to live with you for the rest of the year – can’t have you being a grumpy gills, can we?”

***

With all their clothes unpacked, (apart from Verity’s - she had given up on folding and left the majority in her trunk,) they had gathered between Marlene and Chandni’s beds, dressed in their pyjamas. Verity had her snap cards out again, much to the annoyance of the two cats. Willow, who belonged to Marlene, had hidden at the top of Lily’s wardrobe, and Jinks kept trying to lay across the pile.

“Silly Juju, that’s not going to stop them from exploding. Come on, out the way before you singe your fur.” As Chandni plopped the glowering kitten on to her bed, Marlene groaned, her head dropping back towards her mattress.

“Are any of you actually tired?”

“Nope.” Said Lily, eyeing her hand carefully. “I don’t know how anyone could sleep after all this, there’s too much going on in my head.”

“Tell me about it – my brain won’t shut up.” Verity threw down a two, making the deck explode. Chandni shrieked, making Jinks streak off the bed and in to the bathroom.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“If I’m honest, I’m getting a bit sick of snap now.”

“Is that because you’re losing?” 

Verity put a hand to her red tartan chest, mouth agape. “Lily, are you suggesting that I’m a sore loser?”

Met with silence, Verity whipped a pillow from Chandni’s bed and threw it at Lily’s face. Squealing, Lily ducked, and it grazed the top of her head.

“Oi!” She crowed, grabbing a pillow from Marlene’s, “That’s cheating, Wilde!”

Pulling herself upright, she clobbered Verity around the head, then ran back to her own bed, ducking behind it. She threw Marlene her pillow back, but instead of landing next to her, it hit her in the face.

“Oh ho, it’s on now. You’ve got two against one, Evans, you can’t come for all of us.”

“Chandni will defend me, won’t you? You’re on my team?”

“Are you mad? You’re on your own, you’ve brought this upon yourself.”

Verity vaulted Chandni’s bed, grabbing both her pillows, before advancing towards Lily. Marlene followed, pillows poised and ready. As they approached, they heard a war cry from behind, and Chandni jumped out from behind her curtains, hitting both Verity and Marlene with a pillow each.

“Traitor!” Roared Verity, catching the pillow before it fell, and flinging it back.

A battle had begun. Marlene launched herself over Lily’s bed, as Verity ran for Chandni. Giggles, squeals, thumps and shrieks hung thick in the air, and the atmosphere was intoxicating. The cats watched in bewilderment, as the girls destroyed their once neat and tidy room, leaving a path of bed linen and stuffed toys in their wake. After what felt like hours, but was, in reality, a matter of minutes, the girls fell on to the middle beds, gasping for breath.

“You know what every good sleepover needs?” Wheezed Marlene, as she wiped her golden hair from her forehead.

“Snacks?” Asked Verity, as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Snacks.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping someone would suggest that.”

“I’ve not got any food, I ate all mine on the train.” Lily sounded quite disappointed.

“Yeah, same.”

“Well, it’s lucky I know where the kitchens are, isn’t it?” Said Verity, nonchalantly, as she put on her fluffy unicorn slippers. Marlene’s eyes gleamed.

“Does this mean…sneaking around? In the castle, after hours?”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, obviously.” She scoffed, pulling on her pink dressing gown. They both turned to look at Lily and Chandni, expectantly.

“I don’t know about this, you guys. It’s well after nine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well, Mallory said –“

“Pshh. Mallory’s only a prefect.”

“Prefects report to teachers – we could get in to trouble.”

“I can assure you, Chi, they aren’t sending you to Azkaban over a midnight feast.”

"What's Azkaban?"

"Prison."

Looking visibly ruffled, Chandni muttered, “I know that – but, what about detention?”

“Ah, what’s life without a little risk, eh?”

“Well, it’s definitely less stressful.” Grumbled Lily, as Verity lead the girls quietly on to the landing.

***

The stairwell was quiet. Verity and Marlene marched ahead, arm in arm, while Chandni and Lily trudged behind, speaking in sharp whispers.

“This is a really bad idea, you two.”

“Oh, come on, Chandni! It’s fun!” Tittered Marlene, as she threw her a grin.

“Your idea of fun, and my idea of trouble, seem to be worryingly similar.” Hissed Lily, folding her arms over her new Gryffindor jumper. Her hair was scraped up in to a messy bun, which accentuated her moody expression. Behind the straight-laced façade, Verity could see a hint of excitement in her eyes – and that spark was more than enough to work with.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Lils - this is what boarding school’s all about. Exploring the halls at night, having midnight feasts…we’re basically living every kid’s dream here.”

“She’s right, you know. Plus, it’s our first night! We can’t just go to sleep, we’ve got to do something.”

“What if we get caught, though? I don’t want my parents to find out.” Whispered Chandni, with a grimace.

Before Verity’s foot hit the last step, she stopped – shushing the girls, as she tip-toed lightly to the archway…she could hear voices.

“…will you shut up, Pettigrew, for Merlin’s sake. If you don’t want to come, you can go back to bed.”

“He has a point, though, Sirius.”

“Ahh, not you, too? I was just starting to think you were cool.”

“It’s the first night, the teachers are bound to be patrolling. Are you really that hungry?”

“I’m a growing boy, Remus - I’m always hungry.”

“I’m with Sirius on this one. Plus, it’s a good excuse to check out the castle some more.”

“Surely we can do that during the day time?”

“AHA!” Cried Verity, leaping out from behind the stone wall. “Caught in the act.” 

The four boys froze – like deer in the headlights, pale and stricken. Realising it was only Verity, James’ shoulders dropped, and the colour began to return to his cheeks. His blue pyjamas were covered in Welsh dragons, snoozing peacefully, and his hair was messier than usual.

“Oh, it’s just you. Gonna snitch on us, are you?”

“As if. We’re going on our own adventure - no boys allowed.”

“I’m hurt - truly.”

“Yeah, well, we’d have to be crazy to go with you. Plus, I don’t think Lily would be pleased if I allowed you to tag along.” Looking back, she saw the girl’s red hair catch the moonlight as she shook her head, fervently.

“Oh, come on, Evans! What do I have to do to make it up to you? We’re all lions now, after all.”

“You could stop being such an arrogant little toerag, for one.” Ignoring his noise of protest, she continued, in a louder voice. “You could also stop calling Sev, ‘Snivellus’. It’s horrible! He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Well, look – I can’t promise either of those things ‘long-term’, but I can promise not to do them tonight. Deal?”

“It’s not like I can make you go away, is it? I don’t know any spells yet.” She muttered, as Sirius let out a snicker.

“So, it’s settled then. I hope your adventure is taking you to the kitchens, because I’m starving.” Said James, as he ambled towards the portrait hole. Remus and Peter exchanged worried glances, as Sirius jogged to catch him up.

“Too right – I’m so hungry, I could eat a centaur.”

“Is it really worth it, though?” Chandni mumbled. She chewed at her lip, her eyebrows furrowed, as she looked between the stairs and the portrait hole. Her hands were shoved deeply in to the pockets of her polka dot robe. Slowly, the two boys turned to face her, looking at her as though she had grown an extra head.

“Sort your mate out, Verity.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Verity sighed. “Snacks are the most important meal of the day, and midnight feasts are the ultimate snack. I can bring you some cake or something, if you want?”

With one last glance towards the safety of the dormitories, the girl let out an exasperated sigh, and clambered through the open portrait hole. Verity and Marlene had a sneaky low-five, as they ushered Lily in to the dark corridor. Sticking her head back through, she motioned to Remus, who looked torn. Finally, he rolled his eyes and turned to Peter.

“Come on – we might as well. Plus, I bet there’ll be something chocolatey.” Reluctantly, they both joined the group - which Verity suddenly realised was rather large, in the quiet of the corridor. Sirius seemed to have the same thought, as he looked around them and grimaced.

“This looked so much less…conspicuous, in the common room.” He said, gesturing to the herd of first years in front of him.

“Well, we’d better get a wiggle on then, if we don’t want to be caught.”

Sirius spluttered, clearly amused by the muggle phrasing. “A _wiggle_ on?”

“Yes, Black, it means ‘get a move on’.” Growled Verity, playfully, as she shoved him down the dimly-lit hall.

***

The walk to the kitchens was much longer than Verity expected. This could have been, in part, due to James and Sirius’ new favourite game. They would run on ahead, only to jump out from behind a suit of armour. Lily nearly punched James in the face the first time, and it wasn’t long before people stopped falling for it. After fifteen minutes or so of peace, however…

“RUH!”

With a squeal, Peter flailed backwards and knocked in to the plinth of a very unfortunate looking warlock. Paracelcus, the alchemist, wavered as the group let out a collective gasp - then he hit the ground with a deafening crack. Sirius barely had time to look smug, before a lantern appeared at the far end of the hall. The shape of an older gentleman limped towards them, his voice hoarse.

“’Who’s there? Speak up!” It was the caretaker, Argus Filch.

“Ah, dung.” 

“RUN.”

The children sprinted down the corridor, skidding around the corner at the end and careering off towards the stairs.

“Up or down?” Roared James, as they slid to a stop.

“Down, moron!” Yelled Lily, as she took the stairs in her bunny slippers two at a time. Looking slightly impressed, he barrelled after her, followed by the rest of the motley crew. Sirius slid down the bannister in his silk nightclothes, and Verity followed, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She looked back and saw Remus, belly-laughing as he dragged Peter as fast as his legs would carry him. For the first time since she had known him, he looked completely free.

They clattered down two flights of steps, and appeared in the entrance hall. Verity tackled James through a door to the left, and the group piled in behind. Remus pulled it shut with a soft snap.

“Are we going the right way, or was this just a ploy to throw him off?” He asked, in a low voice. His breathing was even, and he had barely broken a sweat. Verity envied him, as her lungs squeezed painfully behind her rib cage.

“My mum says the kitchens are in the basement behind the…”

“The portrait of the pear.” Interrupted James, as he began to descend the stairs.

“Your dad told you as well, then?”

“Of course. Who do you think told your mum?”

“Fair point, Potter.”

As they continued down the narrow staircase, Verity fell in to step with Remus.

“Feeling better, I see?” She said, nudging his arm. He grinned,

“Maybe a bit.”

“They’re not so bad, you know? Once you get to know them.” She motioned to Sirius and James, who were up ahead, discussing with Marlene what treats they might find in the kitchen. Remus chuckled, his eyebrows raised as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ll let you know how I feel about that once we get back to the common room.”

***

They made it to the portrait without being seen. James had a triumphant glint in his eye, as he stood, hands on hips.

“See? I told you – no trouble at all.”

“Yeah, except for almost getting caught.” Quipped Lily, with a roll of her bright green eyes. James stuck out his tongue, and turned to Verity.

“So, are you going to do the honours, or shall I?” His chivalry was marred by the childish hopefulness on his face – she could see he was itching to try it.

“James, we can all tell you’re dying to give it a go. Go on, make Monty proud.” With a grin that could light up Blackpool, James tickled the little green pear, causing it to let out a delighted giggle. The fruit turned in to a golden door knob, which he swung open, to reveal the kitchens…and lots of welcoming faces.

“Good evening, sirs and misses! What is we doing for you this evening?” A House Elf stepped forwards, standing only three foot tall. Her voice was squeaky and bright, to match her bulbous blue eyes and dazzlingly white tunic. It had been fashioned out of a pillowcase, and was neatly pressed, with a pale blue ribbon tied around the waist.

“Hello, we were wondering if we could get some nibbles?” Asked James, and Verity turned her laughter in to a cough.

“What kind was you thinking, sir?”

“Maybe some cakes? Pastries? Anything pudding-like, to be honest, we’ve all got a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Of course!” The elf shrilled, her cocker spaniel ears flapping as she nodded frantically. With a clap of her wizened hands, the elves set to work. Rounding on James, Verity smirked.

“Nibbles?” James flushed.

“Yeah, what was that about? Have you gone all posh on us, Potter?”

“Says you, Sirius, from _'the Most Honourable House of Black'_ , dressed in your green silk jammies. Your family’s posher than mine.”

“Yeah, but we don’t call it nibbles, do we? You’re as soft as a flobberworm.”

Lily let out a chuckle, pushing past a deflated James as she walked towards the long, empty tables. Marlene and Chandni followed, eyes roaming the room as they took everything in.

The elves worked in small pockets – some kneading dough, others firing the large ovens – a few were even making small designs out of icing and chocolate, and putting the last finishing touches on the apple Danish. This was all done by magic, of course, but without the use of wands – they had their own innate power, and were extremely adept at wandless magic. Verity thought of her nanny’s elves, Poppy and Rosie, and let out a wistful sigh. She loved them, and their cakes, dearly. On every visit, Patty and her little helpers would bake up a storm, while Verity acted as taste-tester. It was always the highlight of her stay.

As Verity day-dreamed, mountains of treats were piled before them, and the children swarmed like flies on a picnic.

“Okay, so, this was definitely worth it.” Admitted Chandni, sheepishly reaching for the chocolate brownies. Lily nodded, her mouth stuffed with Cherry Bakewell.

“I knew it. I’ve died, and I’m in heaven.” Marlene's eyes closed with delight, as she bit in to another tasty morsel.

James, Sirius and Peter loaded their various pockets, as Remus thanked the elves profusely – he had even learnt all their names.

“Thanks for the food, Binnie.” The neat, floppy-eared elf who had greeted them curtsied so low, her snout almost touched the floor. “The cauldron cakes were lovely, Bucket. Also, that caramel is really good, Rags! I’m not sure where Moppet has gone, but please thank him as well, for me...”

“Remus?” Whispered Peter, tugging on his sleeve. “It’s time to go, it’s almost one o’clock. We’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Ah, gorgons. Well, it’s been nice meeting all of you. See you soon!” He called, as they made their way back to the portrait.

“Good night, sir!”

***

As they made their way down the fourth-floor corridor, chatting quietly amongst themselves, a figure staggered out from behind a statue, his face ghoulishly illuminated by the lamplight.

“Gotcha!”

Chaos ensued. The group turned tail and ran – or more, waddled, in the boys’ case, as their pyjamas were weighed down by goodies. Slippers slapped the floor, and laughter filled the air, as they hurtled back the way they had come. Turning the corner, Verity stopped suddenly, trying to figure out an escape route. Remus yelped as he barged in to the back of her, and they crashed straight in to a mirror.

Or, that’s what would have happened, if the mirror hadn’t been some sort of portal. Like liquid, they passed straight through the glass, and landed with a thud at the top of a set of stairs. Remus dragged Verity out of the way, just as Sirius appeared through it, followed by James, Peter and the rest of the girls. Chandni’s eyes were wide, her chest heaving, as the children thundered down the stone steps. Verity was sure the caretaker had heard their echoing footsteps. At the bottom, it opened out, but they could barely see a foot in front of their face. A gust of cool air washed over Verity, making the hair on her arms prickle. She felt Remus fumbling next to her.

“Are you really thinking about food at a time like this?” She wheezed, trying to control her breathing. He gave a ‘HA!” of victory, before muttering.

“Lumos.”

The light from Remus’ wand illuminated a capacious passageway. There were unlit sconces on the wall, swathed in cobwebs, and old fireplaces stationed every few feet, trailing in to the blackness.

As Verity walked further and further down the passage, she fell in to deep thought, wondering what the fireplaces may be used for. A hearth wasn’t just a place to warm your feet in the Wizarding world, she knew that – but, as far as she was aware, you couldn’t Floo in to Hogwarts. As her brain ticked over, a tap on the shoulder brought her back to reality with a yelp.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s not funny, Remus.” Unfortunately, this response only made his smirk deepen.

“If you’d jumped any higher, you would have hit the ceiling.” His lop-sided grin, coupled with one quirked brow, caused Verity's cheeks to bloom with colour. “Didn’t you hear us calling you?”

“Oh, no, sorry. I was off in my own little world.”

“Well, come on. Sirius said the coast’s clear, and I don’t fancy sleeping in here tonight. Do you?”

“Ugh, no. I’ve just remembered all the cobwebs – this adventure is officially over, spiders give me the willies.”

“They give you the _what_?”

“The creeps, Remie. They give me the creeps.”

“Oh. Sure, if you say so.”

“Everyone ready?” Asked Lily, reluctantly taking James’ hand as he helped her up from the floor. “Come on, then. I’d like to get back before sun rise, if that’s alright with you lot.”

“No one made you come, Evans.”

Lily mimicked Sirius, silently, as they all crept back up the stairs.

***

The Fat Lady was fast asleep by the time they made it back to the seventh floor.

“Does anyone remember the password?” Asked Marlene, her clear blue eyes tinged red from tiredness.

“It’s waddiwasi.” Mumbled Chandni, battling a yawn.

Sirius stalked forwards, and rapped on the side of the portrait. With a grunt, the rather large woman in the pink dress awoke, bleary eyed and yawning widely. While doing a particularly large stretch, she noticed that she was being watched.

“You. All of you. Aren’t you meant to be in bed?”

“Waddiwasi.”

“Well, now. No need to be rude!” She exclaimed, as the door swung open.

Stumbling in to the warm, comforting surroundings of their new common room, Verity’s eyes closed, and her cheeks rose in to a sleepy smile. They had made it.

“Gorgons, look at the time, it’s nearly half one. We’re all going to be about as much use as a chocolate tea-pot tomorrow.” As Verity went to sink in to the chintzy arm chairs by the fire, she felt two sets of hands grab her arms. “Oh no, you don’t.”

“Come on, True - time for bed.” Eyebrows crinkled, and a pouty lip, Verity protested.

“But – but, it’s so comfy.”

“No.”

“But, I’m too sleepy.”

“Go to bed, Vez.”

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.”

“Night, True. Thanks, Chandni.”

“No problem, Remus. See you tomorrow!”

As Chandni half-dragged her up the stairs, her sleepy smile turned in to a fully-fledged grin. What a brilliant night.


	8. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! 'Peely-wally' is a Scots phrase, 'wally' is pronounced like Sally. Verity will be using Scottish and Yorkshire phrasing throughout, especially when she becomes concerned or frustrated. I promise I'll explain what they mean in the notes, though 😂

The tunnel was narrow. They shuffled along in silence, feeling their way through the overwhelming darkness. Verity winced, as something sharp pierced her knee. Her hands smarted, as gravel and debris dug deeper in to her skin.

“Dad?”

“Keep going, Verity. Don’t stop – don’t look back.”

Muffled noise permeated the walls. As they neared the small slither of light ahead, the bangs and cracks grew louder. Reaching the end of the passage, she pushed up, and clambered as quietly as she could through the small opening. She realised they were sat in the hollow of a large tree. Bright flashes of colour danced through the holes in the bark, like a sinister fireworks display. Cold, peeling laughter ricocheted through the forest, making the back of Verity’s neck prickle with fear. 

They were all going to die.

Fighting with the pocket of her dressing gown, she managed to free her wand, scooting in front of her father. Her bare feet stung with cold, and her shoulders shook. She could smell the spent spell-work in the air, and hear the creaking of her house in the distance, as it fought a losing battle. As Verity’s eyes darted around their hiding place, a thin, golden line was etching itself in to the wood, creating the shape of a door. Her heart was hammering now - she could feel it trying to break free from her chest. The pain was making her queasy, as she shakily held her wand in front of her. It was all so _real_ …

“Oi, Vez. Pass the toast!”

Verity looked up from her pancakes with a start, to see James’ expectant face looming at her from across the table. The dream from last night ebbed away as she tried desperately to cling on, the last tendrils flickering before they vanished. She felt like frisbeeing the plate at his head. Pushing her breakfast forwards, she rested her forehead on her arms with a soft groan.

“Remus, pass the toast.” She felt movement next to her, and sighed contentedly. “Thank you.”

“Bit sleepy this morning? You’ve been really out of sorts.”

“Sleepy is an understatement.” Hearing a chuckle, Verity nudged him with her foot under the table. “Leave me alone, I’m dying.”

“No more late-night escapades for you, then?”

“Are you kidding? A wee kip, and I’ll be back on my feet.” Peeking up at him, she noticed he was looking a little worse for wear, too. “Seems like I’m not the only one.” The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, picking at his scrambled eggs.

“What do you mean?”

“You look shattered, Remus. Are you feeling okay?” She sat up properly now, and scrutinised him. He had dark circles like the rest of them, but, he seemed...sickly? His skin had a waxy sheen, and his hair had lost its usual lustre. He fidgeted under her gaze, pushing her hand away as she tried to feel his forehead.

“I’m fine, honestly.” 

Verity was not convinced. “Chandni? Does Remus look sick to you? He's a wee bit peely-wally.” Chandni gave her a blank stare. "Pale, Chi. He's a bit pale." 

The girl considered him for a moment, before shrugging. “I think we all look a bit peaky, True. We were up until two-ish.”

“See? I’m fine. No worse than any of you lot, anyway – probably ate a dodgy pastry.” 

“Hmm. We’ll see. If you still look poorly at lunch time, I’m dragging you to the hospital wing myself.”

“Leave the boy alone, Verity. He’s not about to drop dead, is he? He’s fine.”

“Alright, mardy arse. What’s widdled in your Whizbees?” 

Sirius had been in a terrible mood all morning. He grunted as he chomped in to his bacon, throwing his knife and fork down with a clatter.

“Nothing. I’m going to get my bag, see you all in Potions.”

James watched him as he sauntered from the hall, with an expression of pity. Leaning in, he muttered,

“Don’t take it personally, Vez. He got a particularly nasty letter from his mum this morning – not too happy that he’s in Gryffindor, it seems.”

“Is that what he was reading earlier?”

“Yeah,” said James, his mouth set in a grim line. “He was boring holes in the back of his cousin’s head – I reckon she snitched on him.”

“What a hag - I never liked Narcissa.” The two of them stared at her from across the tables with narrowed eyes. “I wonder what Walburga was so upset about? I know she probably expected him to carry on the family tradition, but Gryffindor isn’t a bad house.”

“I don’t know, they’re just nutters, aren’t they? I reckon it’s all the in-breeding.” With a wink, he ran a hand through his unruly black hair. “I think I’m going to go find him, make sure he’s alright. See you at Potions?”

“Yeah, see you.”

Remus and Peter quickly followed suit, the latter shoving a final piece of toast in his mouth as they stood up.

“Can I see your timetable?” Asked Verity. Remus produced a flattened square of paper from his pocket, which she unfolded and smoothed against the wooden surface. After a quick scan, she handed it back with a grin. “Nice - we get all our split lessons together.”

“Yep - Dorm Twos have Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first, and Dorm Threes have Charms with the Ravenclaws, then we all meet up for Defence next lesson.”

“I wonder why we aren’t just split by houses?” She pondered, as they followed Lily and Marlene from the Great Hall. 

“Verity – there’s over one hundred people in our year - twenty-eight students in our house alone. If we all shared a class with all the Slytherins, that would be around fifty students in one room.”

“Look, I’m not cut out for early-morning maths, okay?”

“Just 'early-morning' maths, hmm?”

His eyes glittered cheekily, one eyebrow slanted upwards in jest. He was right - maths definitely was not her strong suit. It had always been her least-favourite subject. Verity stuck out her tongue at him, giving him a playful shove as they made their way to the main stairs. Chandni and Peter were chatting between themselves a few steps ahead, re-hashing the events of last night. As she listened to them twitter on, she couldn’t help but remember that terrible recurring dream. She tried to picture the face behind the door, as she traipsed down the corridor towards the common room.

***

Verity could not wait to leave the Potions classroom. For the first time in her life, she was packed up and ready to go before any of her peers. It was cold, and damp, and incredibly dull. Not only that, but she had experienced her first run-in with the Slytherins today, when Soren Wilkes had stalked straight up to Remus and said,

“What’s wrong with your face?”

While other students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, or craned their necks for a better view, her nasty little laugh had been joined by those of her dim-witted goons. Three boys she had yet to learn the names of, and, Verity noted with a stab of rage, Severus. Lily had hissed at him under her breath, but the damage was done. That was Snivellus off her Christmas card list this year.

“What’s wrong with yours? Dropped on your face at birth?” She’d fired back. James and Sirius had their wands in their hands - more for effect than anything else - and were glaring daggers at the unwelcome visitor. Remus, however, sat behind her with a pleasant smile on his face. 

“Verity, don’t waste your breath – it’s obviously not her turn to use the brain cell.”

“Sticking up for your weirdo boyfriend, are you?”

“She was asking a genuine question, Soren. Were you dropped at birth, or did you just get all the bad genes?”

Sirius and James had exploded in howls of laughter, while Peter’s excitable face whizzed from person to person like he was watching a game of tennis. Soren swished her black hair over her shoulder with a sneer. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Black. If I had to associate with mudbloods and traitors, and scarred up freaks, I’d never show my face again.”

“Wilkes, if I had to spend all my free time consorting with the likes of you, I’d throw myself off the top of the Astronomy Tower. Also, please never show your face again – do us all a favour.”

“You’re only saying that because you weren’t good enough for Slytherin.” Pulling herself up to the grand height of four foot six, she puffed out her chest, somehow managing to look down her nose at him.

“No, I’m saying that because you’re all-“

“Now now, children, settle down.” Professor Slughorn, the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, had swanned back in to the room. The silver fastenings of his green satin waistcoat caught the torchlight, and twinkled like stars. He was a rather rotund gentleman, whose cheeks were pouched and ruddy - most likely due to his enjoyment of the finer things in life. He had a gentle smile on his face, as he regarded them all fondly - like dolls in a shop window. Verity wanted to throw up. “Miss Wilkes, kindly take your seat.” Soren slinked across the classroom, her rat-like face triumphant.

The rest of the lesson had been relatively uneventful. Verity sat with Chandni and Marlene, shooting daggers at stupid Soren and all her stupid friends, drawing unflattering doodles. 

Lily, unfortunately, became caught in the crossfire, from where she sat with Severus in the middle of the classroom. She had been giving him the cold shoulder since the incident, and had even chucked Remus an apology note when Slughorn wasn’t looking. He’d returned it with a small smile, before turning back to his parchment, seemingly unperturbed.

“That was so uncalled for.” Grumbled Marlene, as she added fire to the stick drawing’s head. “Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know, but she clearly has no idea who she’s messing with.” Verity moodily stabbed the little figure with her quill. “Imagine saying something so horrid to someone on their first day. What an absolute hag.”

“It was pretty horrid, but - do you…do you know where Remus got his scars from?” Asked Chandni, in a hushed whisper.

“No. I thought it was rude to ask – plus, it isn’t really anyone else’s business but his. If he wants to tell us, he will.” 

“I guess.” Chandni mumbled, taking a sneaky peek at him over her shoulder. “I do feel sorry for him, though.”

“I think it makes him look fierce.” Said Marlene, with a grin. Verity nodded dutifully, before her eyes flickered over to the boy in question. If not for his glowing ears, Verity would have thought he was completely lost in thought.

“I think he’s perfect just the way he is. If some idiot with a giant snake up her butt can’t see that, that’s on her.”

As she spoke, she saw Remus hide his face with his arm, awkwardly scribbling notes on to his parchment.

Drumming her fingers on the desk, she got lost in her own imagination, not quite listening to the homework assignment being set for them. Something about the magical properties of Bezoars – she’d ask one of the girls later. As she waited patiently to be set free, a shadow fell over her page, with a distinct chortle.

“Miss Wilde, you really ought to consider my little dinner club, you know - once you're old enough. I’m sure your mother would approve.” Verity inwardly groaned – apparently, news of her mother’s Potions empire had reached the Professor before she had, and he now expected her to be some kind of protégé. James was receiving the same treatment, much to his amusement.

“Thanks again, Professor – I’ll definitely have a think about it. Only, there’s so many clubs I want to try, I’ll have to make sure I can fit everything in.” With a saccharine smile, she waited until he had waddled away before her face dropped. She pulled a vomit face at James, who returned the gesture with a snicker.

It wasn’t a lie, exactly – but, not the whole truth, either. There were lots of fascinating clubs at Hogwarts, but Verity knew she wanted nothing to do with Slughorn’s elitist monthly soirée, regardless. He seemed not to value students for their merit, but for who they knew, and what they could do for him. They hadn’t even brewed a potion yet, and he was already trying to add her and James to his 'collection'. Suppressing a shudder, she scrambled to grab her things, as the students began to mill towards the door.

“Remus? Wait up!” She hollered, and he stopped short, leaning against the stone wall. He gave her a quizzical look, as she marched right up to him, and slipped her hand in his - in solidarity, she told herself. As soon as she had learnt some hexes, it was over for Soren Wilkes.

His large, calloused hand felt rough against her smooth palm. Giving it a soft squeeze, she dragged him off towards the dungeon’s stair case. He was oddly quiet for the rest of the trip – Verity barely noticed, though. She was too pre-occupied with the little tingles shooting up her arm.

***

“Morning, all!” Cried Russ, as he jogged down the corridor with his papers stacked haphazardly in his arms, his hair flopping in his eyes. Verity saw a few of the girls swoon, as he gave them all a cheeky grin. “My name is Professor Lockett, and I’ll be your Defence teacher this year.” Unlocking the classroom with a flourish of his wand, he led them inside. As the students found their seats, his enchanted chalk began to write on the board behind him, annotating his words as he spoke. “Today, we will be learning about Gyrtrash. You, sir - at the back, with the long black hair. State your name, and the answer to this question - what is a Gyrtrash?”

“Sirius Black, Professor. It’s a large, spectral dog with a forked tail and an appetite for children, that haunts the woodlands across the UK…some say, there’s a pack of them in the Forbidden Forest.” Sirius laughed, as Florence Greer let out a terrified shriek. She shifted herself away from the window, as if one was about to crash through the glass.

“Thank you for that colourful explanation, Mister Black – although, its bloodlust does not stop with children – anyone will do. Fifteen points to Gryffindor.” As Russ turned back to the board, Verity noticed that a diagram had been drawn – a wispy, lurcher-like dog, with scribbled notations. Verity’s particular favourite was the line from its belly that said ‘Does Not Discriminate – All Ages Welcome.’ “Now, can anyone tell me what spells would be effective against such a creature? If you were to run in to one in the woods, say.” Verity’s hand shot up. “Yes, Vez?” The class tittered, as Verity shot him a grin. Teacher’s pet already? This year was going to be a cake walk.

“Gyrtrash are sensitive to light, so the Wand-Lighting Charm would be handy - red sparks, too. Don’t bother with the green sparks spell, though, that’s useless.”

“Brilliant, four answers in one. Shall we say, twenty points to Gryffindor? I think that’s fair.” Verity gave Chandni a fist bump, feeling rather smug. All those walks in the woods with her mum were finally paying off. “Now, I shall need a volunteer. Verity, step forward please.” The self-assured grin fell off of Verity’s face – with a gulp so subtle, she was hoping nobody had noticed. Striding to the centre of the room, she turned to face the class. “Can you tell me, what is the wand-lighting charm?”

“…Lumos?”

“Excellent. Can you show us all what it looks like?”

Praying she would get it right, she looped her wand through the air, and muttered the incantation. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, as the tip shone yellow – a collective gasp, and excited whispers filled the room. ‘Thank the Gods I practiced on the train,’ she thought, as she beamed with pride. Finally, something she was good at.

“Fantastic! Can you extinguish it for me?”

With a motion like a wave breaking on the shore, she exclaimed, “Nox!”

“Thanks, Verity, you can take a seat now.” Russ sat atop his desk, his cream cable-knit cardigan rolled up to his elbows, with an arm resting casually on his light blue jeans. “Did everyone see what Verity did? The wand motions are particularly important. Spell-work is just as much about the execution, as it is about the language and the intent. Today, we are going to practice lighting and extinguishing our wands. Imagine there’s a big, creepy dog in front of you – that should do the trick.” The words ‘Lumos’ and ‘Nox’ had appeared upon the blackboard, with crude wand movements illustrated underneath.

The group helped Peter to learn the spell, after Marlene had accomplished it first try to resounding cheers. His face scrunched in concentration, beady eyes narrowed as he tried to replicate the movement. He wobbled his wand through the air, as he squeaked,

“Lu-mose!” The light at the end of his wand spat pitifully, then died. Looking disheartened, he turned to Remus, who smiled reassuringly.

“It’s alright, Pete, you’ll get there. Here, watch me again.” Remus began to move his wand through the air, lighting and extinguishing it with ease. Peter followed the point like a moth to a flame, his brow pinched.

“Are you sure you’re not a squib?” Asked Sirius, with a snigger. Peter scowled at his wand, placing it back on the table with a huff. Lily shot Sirius a withering look, as James hid his face behind his textbook. 

“He’s not a squib, he’s just having trouble. I haven’t seen you try it yet, Black. Want to give him a demonstration?”

If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under. He lit and extinguished his wand with barely any effort, and stuck his feet up on the table, smirking.

“Unless you want to lose those points, Mister Black, you’ll put those grubby hooves back where they belong.” Sirius winced, gracefully pulling his feet under the desk.

“Sorry Professor, I was proving a point.”

“What, that you’re an insufferable toad?” Grumbled Lily, as Verity muffled her titters with the sleeve of her robe.

“Er, Professor, Evans is being rude.”

“No doubt you deserve it. Carry on, you lot. Don’t make me come back over here.” Sirius gaped after him, as he ambled over to Tadhg McCarthy and his friends.

“I don’t think Professor Lockett likes you.” Said James, in mock concern.

“I think Professor Lockett is a –“

“Oh, don’t be sore, Sirius – not everyone will be taken by your boyish charm.” Said Verity, with a wicked grin. 

“Easy for you to say, he loves you.” Sirius grumbled, flipping her off. She stuck out her tongue, giggling as she turned back to Remus. He was watching Peter with an unreadable expression, his fingers steepled together on the desk in front of him. “How’s he doing?”

“Fine.” Said Remus, with a thin smile. “He looks like he’s getting the hang of it.” The colour still had not returned to his cheeks - in fact, Verity noted that he seemed to be looking more ill as the day dragged on. He sighed, as he rubbed a hand over his face, looking much older than his years. Leaning in, he whispered, “Although, I’m a bit worried he’s going to set something on fire.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t already.” 

Remus tutted playfully, as he stood up to help Peter with his movements again.

Just before the lunch bell, Peter held up his wand in victory,

“Thank FUCKING Merlin!” He cried, before blushing a deep shade of maroon. Sirius double took, before offering him a high-five.

“I take it back. I take it all back.”

Russ looked up from the table across the room, where he was stood with a boy called Basil - a hint of mirth sweeping across his features,

“Mr Pettigrew, ten points to Gryffindor. Five for mastering the spell, and five for giving me a hilarious story to tell at lunch time. Don’t let me catch you swearing in my class again, though – this is a one off.”

As Peter walked down the corridor towards the Gryffindor Tower, laughing and joking with his friends, he had a new spring in his step.

***

The last remnants of Summer beat down upon their backs, as they lazed at the water’s edge. The boys relaxed under an old beech tree, shaded by the thick foliage. It whispered and sighed in the breeze, dancing to a silent tune, as they chattered quietly underneath. Peter’s shrill, melodic laughter carried across the grass, to where the girls were sat with their toes dangling in the water. Verity had discarded her tights and boots, and was splashing in the shallows. Chandni cast a worried gaze over the vast glass surface, looking for the slightest ripple – she still was not the biggest fan of the Giant Squid.

“Come on, guys, the water’s lovely!”

“No thanks, I’m alright here.”

“Scaredy cat.”

“Yep, you’re right, that’s me. Not going to catch me paddling with a sea monster.”

Marlene pulled off her socks and shoes, placing her robes neatly on top of Verity’s jumbled pile, before sliding off the embankment.

“Bloody hell, Vez, it’s freezing!” She screamed, her light blue eyes lighting up with laughter. Verity splashed her with water, then ran as fast as she could in the other direction, cackling with glee. “You can run, but you can’t hide!” She shrieked, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders as she quickly waded after her.

“Be careful, you two!” Yelled Lily, shaking her head. “You don’t know where it starts to get deep!”

“Honestly, it’s like they don’t even care.”

“I don’t think they do.” Said James, as he plopped down next to Lily, making a noise of contentment as his feet sunk under the cool water. She groaned, scooting towards Chandni before turning her gaze back to her ridiculous friends. They were dancing together, kicking water at each other and yelling a muggle Summer classic at the top of their lungs.

“She wears those micro-mini dresses...”

“Hair hanging down her back!”

“She wears those see-through sweaters, she likes to wear her stockings black…”

“And if I see her tonight…”

“They’re bloody mental, aren’t they?” Said Sirius, laughing as Marlene lost her balance, her arms flailing as Verity grabbed her hand.

“The best kind of mental, though.” Giggled Chandni, as she clapped along to the beat.

“…She got beautiful teeth,”

“A toothpaste adman's dream!”

“She got a beautiful form,”

“The best I've ever seen!”

“I'm gonna get her tonight…I don't care where she been.”

“Well, I said baby!”

“Baby!”

“Baby, what you doin' to me?” They had an arm around each other’s shoulders, doing a jig in the water, singing together like two drunks in a pub.

As Verity spun in circles, she looked over at her friends. Peter was clapping along with Chandni, both doubled over in giggles. James and Sirius had clearly taken the ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ mentality, and were swinging each other around at the water’s edge. She spotted James trying to pull Lily up by her jumper, before being swatted away. She laughed at him, shaking her head and shooing him with her hands. Lily turned back to Remus, who was picking at strands of grass and smiling to himself. Whispering something in his ear, he looked at her and his smile grew wider, nodding his head. Glancing at Verity, he grinned, pushing his sandy brown hair up and out of his face. Something squiggled in the pit of her stomach, and she tripped, clinging on to Marlene as they both wobbled.

“Oi, gerroff!” She yelped, her feet skidding over the slimy pebbles.

“Sorry!” Squealed Verity, as they both teetered back and forth. Roars of laughter punctured the air, as the girls fought to keep themselves upright. Finding their balance, and their composure, they held hands as they waddled back towards the group.

“That was some quality lunch time entertainment, you two.” Teased James, helping them clamber on to the embankment.

“Thank you, thank you – we’ll be here all term.” Verity’s voice was light and airy, as she lay back on the grass with her arm over her eyes. She could feel Remus destroying the lawn next to her, and she smiled contentedly.

She felt more comfortable here, after one day, than she had felt at her old school in seven years. She really was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Verity and Marlene sing is called 'Baby Jump' by Mungo Jerry. 
> 
> This one's a bit short and sweet, hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated 🥰
> 
> L♥ xx


	9. Catching Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scotticisms:
> 
> Het up (s) - pissed off.
> 
> It takes a long spoon to sup wi' the devil (s) - A phrase that basically means 'keep your distance when dealing with bad things'.
> 
> Aye, right (s) - Yeah, sure, okay...

Bluebell Lodge looked particularly beautiful in the autumn. Hidden down a side street, on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village, the back garden boasted an unfettered view of the rolling hills. Copper-kissed leaves littered the lawn, and the plant beds were alive with hardy Scottish wildflowers. Peg had never been much of a gardener, but the natural growth suited her perfectly. 

Sitting in her aunt’s cosy living room, decorated in blues and lilacs, Verity reflected on her first few days of school. Friday had been easy – a half-day, followed by homework at the lake. Well – Remus and Chandni did homework, while Verity and Peter watched the clouds. It was blissful. If Verity concentrated hard enough, she could still feel the breeze mussing her wavy hair, and the sun-baked ground warming her back.

She thought the fresh air would do Remus some good, too. He looked positively ghastly, when he’d stumbled down to breakfast that morning. 

The feeling of concern niggled at her insides again, but she straightened her face when her Aunt reappeared - two floral cups in hand. Her dark blonde hair was held back from her face with a thin leather braid, and her prominent blue eyes sparkled in anticipation.

“Tell me _everything_. How was your first week? Are you enjoying yourself?” The eagerness in her usually airy timbre caused Verity to laugh. She placed her tea on the old wooden coffee table, folding her legs underneath her.

“I love it!” She cried, throwing her arms in the air. “Russ is great, isn’t he? I'm proper chuffed - he’s my favourite teacher so far.” 

Her Aunt gave her a cheeky smile, “Aye…and he’s very handsome, too.”

“Peggy!”

“What?” She said, followed by her infamous cackle. It filled the room, bouncing from window to wall. “He thinks very highly of you – apparently, you did really well in class the other day. He was most impressed.” At this, Verity blushed.

“He’s only saying that because he knows you and mum. I doubt he’d have called me up for that demonstration, otherwise. Oh, it was so embarrassing – he made me stand up in front of the whole class!” Burying her face in her hands, Verity and her Aunt descended in to a fit of giggles.

“So," exclaimed Peg, regaining her composure, "have you made any new pals? I’ve seen you prowling the halls with a rather large pride of Gryffindors."

“Yeah, everyone's dead nice. Plus, I already knew a few people when I started, so they're stuck with me now." Verity chuckled, thinking of the rag-tag band of muppets she'd fallen in with. "You know James, don’t you, and Sirius Black?”

“Aye, I forgot that Sirius had made it in to Gryffindor - I bet his mother wasnae happy about that.”

“Apparently not. She sent him a really horrid letter - he was pure het up Thursday morning. Did you see him storm out at breakfast?" Peg shook her head - she had been at home that morning, with Athena. "I don’t understand why it’s so important. Surely she’d be happy for him, whatever house he ended up in?”

“Unfortunately, Verity, some people are far too caught up in the trivialities o' such nonsense as blood and House pride.” Stirring her beverage, she mused, “Walburga Black is a very insecure woman, who hides behind a mask of purism, vanity and arrogance. Keep your eye on him, True. I sense trouble ahead, an' it takes a long spoon to sup wi' the devil.” Verity rolled her eyes. Her Aunt couldn’t make it through one simple visit without predicting something heinous.

“Aye, right...has mum mentioned Remus at all?” 

“Lyall’s boy? I heard you two had become friendly. How’s he getting on?” There was a slight nuance in her tone that made Verity falter.

“Really well, thanks. I know we haven’t been friends long, but I feel like I’ve known him for years – longer than James, even.” Verity pondered for a moment. “You know, talking of Remus, he's been really unwell the last few days. I’ve tried to get him to go to Madam Pomfrey, but he isn’t having any of it.”

“Some things medicine can’t fix, dear.” Peg’s eyes bugged slightly, and she busied herself with her drink. Verity was right - she was hiding something. “I mean to say, maybe he’s just feeling a little under the weather? Poppy could give him a Pepper-Up potion, but there’s little else she can offer him, if that's the case. Better to just ride it out, you know?”

“Right.” The room was uncomfortably quiet. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” She probed. If Peg knew what was wrong with Remus, Verity wanted to know.

“No, no. Just a feeling I had, I suppose.” Peggy patted her niece’s leg as she stood, averting her gaze. 

Peg was a terrible liar. It was very unlike her, not to jump on an opportunity of grim prognostication.

“Mary?” She called, gathering the tea things on to a tray. A greying Elf stomped in to the living room, her apron still sparkling with suds. She looked as though she had been sucking lemons, her mouth scrunched in to a fearsome knot.

“Aye?”

“Could you take these, please?”

With a grunt, Mary snatched the tray from Peg, and disappeared in a whirl of perpetual fury. Verity sniggered.

“She’s certainly not mellowed in her old age, has she?”

“Mary has many qualities – gentleness isn’t one of them.” Peg floated back to her seat, her navy chiffon robes billowing behind her. “You haven’t told me about your new dorm mates.”

“They are brilliant! I can't wait for you to meet them. Chandni is so bubbly and kind, Lily is absolutely hilarious - I'd never want to get on her bad side, she's got a tongue like a venomous tentacular, and Marlene's an absolute riot. Chi and Lils are a bit more worried about rule-breaking than me and Marley, but I’m sure we’ll wear them down eventually.”

“Verity, you _do_ remember that I am a Professor at Hogwarts?”

“Of course, Peg, but I’m talking to you as my Aunt. Why, are you going to give me a detention?” She teased.

“We are off school grounds, and I have seen no crime committed, so – no, not yet.”

“You wouldnae anyway.”

“You’re right, I wouldnae dare.”

***

As the afternoon wore on, the conversation turned to Verity’s encounter in Aysgarth Forest.

“Aye, Nell told me what happened. That must have been very frightening, Verity. Well done for alerting your mother so quickly, and not caving to that Gryffindor bravado.”

“It was, a bit. I’ve been having some pure weird dreams recently, and that definitely didn’t help...I have them almost every night now.”

At this, Peg became alert, her peaceful demeanour slipping as she clasped Verity's hands in her own. “Dreams? You didn’t mention dreams. Why haven’t you told me?”

“Because they are _just_ dreams, Peg.”

“Recurring dreams are very rarely ‘just’ dreams, darling. What have you seen, and from what perspective?” 

Secretly relieved for her Aunt’s support, Verity began to talk

Peg sat, eyes closed, letting her niece’s voice wash over her. She listened as Verity described the menacing cachinnations that haunted her nights, a prelude to horrifying screams. The screams, she was sure, of her mother. The damp, musty tunnel in to the old Oak tree, the bile-inducing fear as she watched the gold line cut itself through the bark. She stayed silent, as Verity lamented her fears for her father, and his muggle heritage, and the inexplicable ride on Archie through the woods. She held her as she wittered about how it was all so vivid, but none of it made _sense_.

There was no attack. No haunting laughter. No blood-curdling screams. Her father hadn’t been present that day, and there was no passage under the forest floor, that she was aware of. Where would it even lead from? The house, most likely. There were sixteen accomplished witches and wizards in the house that day - if anything had happened, they would have fixed it. Plus, Archimedes was big, but he wasn’t _that_ big...it was ridiculous. It was like her brain was suffering from 'what if's and refusing to move past it, and she was having none of it. Nothing happened, they are all safe. So, why does she get the feeling that this isn't over? Why does it still feel so real?

“I would suggest that these two incidents are not linked, Verity.” Said Peg, with a quiet confidence one only gains from _knowing_.

“What do you mean?”

“They are wholly unrelated events. You're right, in that sense, but you are wrong to think that this is not a warning. Pay attention to these dreams, Verity, they could be important.” Peg crossed the room to a beautiful Welsh dresser, and began to rifle through the drawers. Plucking a new, leather-bound journal from its depths, she handed it to Verity. “I suggest you record them in here. It will help you to keep track of the details.”

“Thanks, Peggy.” Verity didn’t know what to think. Her mother had never held much stock in Divination, branding it ‘hokum’, and Verity had grown up relentlessly teasing her Aunt for all her peculiarities. Peg was not what one would call a ‘True Seer’, but was well-versed in the art, and she took her job very seriously. Sometimes, to her own detriment. “Well, I’d best be getting back. I have a lot of homework to finish.” This was true, but not the reason for her quick exit. Verity didn’t much care for homework. She was slightly unnerved at her Aunt’s insistence on the subject of her dreams, though, and was suddenly feeling rather sick.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, True, but please – take this seriously. Any more of these, and you come straight to me.”

***

“Has anyone seen Remus?” She asked, as she sat with Peter and Chandni in the common room. Verity sat on the floor, the contents of her satchel splayed in front of her. Chandni and Peter had bagged two squashy sofas, and were making the most of the space. Miranda Goshawk’s Standard Book of Spells, Grade One lay open, but forgotten, as they succumbed to the little distractions around them. Charms could wait.

“He’s gone up to the Hospital Wing. You were right, you know – he about keeled over when you were visiting your Aunty! We practically had to carry him up there.” Peter let out a half-hearted chuckle, and was taking a particular interest in his hands.

“Oh no! Is he alright? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

“He told us not to worry you. Knew you’d be dramatic about it.” Piped Sirius, as he strolled up behind her. He took a bite of his apple, the juice running through his fingers. “There’s something not right with him, you know.”

Verity immediately became defensive. “What do you mean? Remus is lovely, he –"

“Calm down, Vezza, I’m not having a go. He’s just…he’s not alright, is he? He’s been sick since we started, and he’s an absolute nightmare to share a dorm with.” Sirius ignored Peter’s silent warning, plopping himself down on the sofa next to Chandni. He threw his legs on to the coffee table and crossed his feet.

“Is that because he doesn’t want to get involved in any of your hare-brained schemes? Because, honestly, I can see his point.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Look, I’ve got nothing against him, but –" Taking another bite, he called, “Oi, James!”

James looked up from his game of snap, with three boys from Dorm Two - Benjy, Frank and Osias - in a meerkat-like fashion.

“Sorry lads, give me a minute.” He jogged over to the first years congregating by the fire. “I hope this is important, I was winning.”

“Help me out, please, I’m fighting a losing battle here. That Lupin, he’s a bit odd, isn’t he?”

James ran a hand through his already-tousled hair, avoiding Verity’s ferocious gaze.

“Yeah, you could say that. It isn’t his fault, though, he’s clearly got something going on at home. Those scars didn’t come from nowhere, did they?”

“That’s none of our business." Verity's voice was quiet. "What do you mean, having trouble at home? Has he said something to you?“

With a sigh, he took a seat next to her, and grimaced. “He’s been having…nightmares. Night terrors, really. Last night was brutal - the boys and I barely got any sleep.”

Verity’s brows knitted, a beleaguered expression on her face. She’d never seen James act so serious.

“What do you mean, brutal? Have you told anyone else about this? McGonagall, perhaps?”

“No, course not – like you said, it’s his business. If it doesn’t stop soon, though, we may have to take action. We’re all shattered.”

“…have you spoken to Remus about this?”

The boys exchanged nervous looks.

“Well, we did try to have a chat with him this morning, but I think we scared him off.”

“Yeah – he didn’t look too happy about it. He apologised and scurried out of the dorm, looking like we'd kicked him.”

“They’re right, True – he really didn’t seem to want to tell us.” Peter simpered. He fidgeted with his robes, gazing up at her with his watery blue eyes. Verity took a deep breath.

“So, is he talking to himself? Thrashing about? Speaking in tongues? I need a bit more information here.”

“All of the above, and…he’s ripped his curtains.”

“Ripped them clean off - found them on the floor this morning next to his bed. That’s why we spoke to him about it.”

"Ripped them _off_?" How could such a small boy create so much damage...in his _sleep_? She heard Peg's words replay in her head, as she mulled over this new information.

'Some things magic can't fix, dear.'

She had been trying to tell her something, but what? What could make him so sick, yet so incredibly strong? A blood malediction? No. Hope's a muggle, that doesn't work. They're passed down the mother's side. A fever dream? Possibly, but what could he possibly be afflicted with that magic couldn't fix?

As her curiosity began to tip toe in to the unknown, Verity scolded herself. This really wasn't any of her business - she'd been saying it since that first Potions lesson, and here she was trying to figure it out.

“Well, whatever has happened, it’s not for us to be prying in to, is it?” She snipped, more at herself than the others. 

Sirius looked affronted. “I was only trying to help him. I wouldn’t have bothered bringing it up if I didn’t care, would I?”

“No. No, I guess not. Sorry.”

“S’alright.”

Verity stewed in uncomfortable silence - Sirius brooded across from her. Cautiously, Chandni chimed in.

“Well, look – there’s clearly something up. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to tell anyone. Maybe the best course of action is…cheering him up?”

“And, how do you suppose we do that?”

“Well, we could always go and visit him?” Suggested Peter, timidly. At this, Verity brightened.

“You know what, Pete? That’s a fantastic idea.” Standing up, she shot the group a look that her mother would be proud of. “Well? Come on, let’s go.”

Chandni and the boys heaved themselves off the sofas, and followed Verity to the portrait hole.

“Right. James, Sirius, you go to the kitchens and grab some snacks. Chandni and I will go to the library – I’m sure they’ll have some muggle fiction in there. Peter…Peter, do you want to go with them, or with us?” She felt bad not giving him a job – he seemed so eager to please. Not wanting to lose any brownie points with his dorm mates, he sidled up to James and Sirius, looking hopeful.

“You’re really bossy, you know that?”

“Bossy, but efficient.”

“Alright. Come on then, Petey, let’s go and get some grub. We’ll meet you at the Hospital Wing.” With a grin, Peter scampered off down the corridor after them, chatting animatedly as they grumbled between themselves.

Chandni turned to Verity, a wry smile on her face.

“I think you should apologise to the boys when they get back, True. I know you’re worried, but you were…a bit harsh. They were only trying to help.”

Still feeling prickly, Verity huffed. Chandni was right, but it didn’t make her feel any better about it. The conversation with her Aunt had clearly affected her more than she thought.

“I know, but they could have been a bit nicer about it.”

“James and Peter were very kind.”

“Well, Sirius wasn’t.”

“Sirius doesn’t really seem to be the compassionate type, though, does he? Give them a break, they’re dumb boys. Their emotional IQ is pretty much zero.”

It wouldn’t be until much later, that Verity would realise how very wrong that assumption was. However, years of living with his mother had hardened the boy, and expressing his feelings was not his forte.

***

A short, prim witch with dark hair and stern expression guarded the door, her lips pursed.

“I’m sorry, but Mister Lupin is not well enough for visitors. You’ll have to wait until he’s back at school.”

“Can you at least tell us what’s wrong with him?” Asked Verity, her tone betraying how frustrated she felt.

“He has a bug.”

“Is it contagious?” Squeaked Peter, in horror.

“No.”

“How come we can’t see him, then? If we aren’t going to catch it, we could sit with him for a bit. Make sure he’s alright?”

“Mister Potter, he is too ill. He needs his rest. I will not repeat myself again.”

“Could you give him these, then? Let him know we came by?” Pleaded Verity, holding out two books. They had chosen The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Sherlock Holmes - two classics that would surely keep him occupied. With a sigh of defeat, Madam Pomfrey held out her arms. On top of the two books, James, Sirius and Peter began to pile parcels wrapped in brown paper, which the matron eyed with suspicion.

“What are those?”

“Pumpkin pasties.”

“Cauldron cakes.”

“Chocolate eclairs.”

"Chocolate chip cookies."

"Cream horns."

"Apple Danish."

As the boys reeled off their spoils, her waspish gaze softened, making way for a small smile.

“Well, that’s very kind of you all. I’m sure Mister Lupin will be very grateful, once he recovers.”

“Oh!” Said Verity, digging in the pocket of her robes. “Could you give him this, too?” She held out a scrap of parchment, hastily folded.

“Of course. Run along now, children, or you’ll be late for dinner.”

Once the children were out of eye-shot, the nurse sneaked a peak at the contents of the letter – to quell her own nerves. She’d never had a student in this position before, and was worried that his friends had figured out his secret. Much to her relief, the note read,

‘Hey, Remus,

We’re all really worried about you, and hope you feel better soon. Can’t wait for you to get back, it’s boring without you! – V.’

***

As they made their way back along the halls, Verity cleared her throat, an uneasy smile on her face.

“Sorry for being such a gargoyle back there. I’m just worried about him, you know? After what happened with Wilkes in Potions, I think I’ve become a bit protective.”

Sirius slung his arm around her shoulders, falling in to step with her. “You really were a total witch.” 

With a gasp, Verity shrugged him off. “Rude. I’m trying to apologise to you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’m still going to make you suffer.”

Their laughter carried down the hall, the slap of their footsteps echoing as they trudged towards the staircase.

“I am really sorry, though. You barely know him – it was nice of you to get him all that lovely stuff, let alone allow me to order you around.”

“Well, you know - I can be nice, sometimes. Remus has had a shit first week, thought it was the least we could do.” James offered her a sincere smile, as they waited for the steps to line up with the landing. "Plus, you can get pretty scary when you're mad - I didn't want to risk it." Verity flicked him the bird, laughing as he winked in return.

“See? I told you. They’re dumb, but their hearts are in the right places.” Whispered Chandni, as the boys ambled ahead. Verity grinned – she’d hit the jackpot, when it came to friends.

***

Arriving at the Great Hall, they found Marlene and Lily sitting with the girls from Dorm Two. Florence was chatting about her Summer, her delicate hands doing most of the talking. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, and gave Verity and Chandni a broad smile as they sat down.

“Hullo, where have you been? Dinner’s almost over!”

“We’ve been visiting a friend in the hospital wing.” Said Chandni, shyly, as she leant across to grab the garlic bread.

“Oh, is that Remus Lupin?” Kamara Johnson cut in, waving her fork in the air. “I saw him this morning, he was looking _rough_.”

“Yes, I saw him, too! Bless him, I heard about what Soren Wilkes said – what a cow. Why would you even ask that? She’s got no tact.” Jennifer Feng tucked in to her potatoes, casting an ugly look at the Slytherin table.

“Is he alright, True?”

“Did you get to see him?”

Lily and Marlene wore matching looks of concern. The girls in Verity’s dorm had grown very fond of Remus over the last few days – his good nature had won them all over fairly quick.

“I don’t know – Madam Pomfrey wasn’t very forth-coming.”

“She did say he’d be coming back – but she didn’t mention _when_.”

“Hopefully soon.” Muttered Verity, as she took a stab at her chicken.

As the talk returned to Summer holidays, Verity found herself uncharacteristically quiet. She had never been very good at letting things go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A new chapter, already? Shocking.
> 
> Number 9 and I, we have a love/hate relationship. It flowed very easily for me, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. Feedback is always appreciated, of course! If there's anything you particularly loved (or hated, I ain't scared) feel free to let me know in the comments :)
> 
> Hope you're all well, and staying safe!
> 
> L♥ xx


	10. We Solemnly Swear...

The classroom was stifling. Verity couldn’t figure out if this was because she was too hot, or because Professor Binns, and his voice like tasteless honey, were so mind-numbingly boring. When he’d flown in through the chalkboard on the very first lesson, she had wondered if her mother’s depictions of him were true – unfortunately, they hadn’t even skimmed the surface. He could put a vampire to sleep.

As she twiddled her quill between her fingers, a ball of parchment flew over her head, and landed neatly next to Peter’s right hand.

Cautiously, he snatched it up, and unravelled it under the desk. With a snigger, he scrawled something back, and lobbed it towards James. It missed him by inches, and rolled under his chair. With a quick look towards the front, he scooped it up, and jotted something down, before passing it to Sirius.

This continued for a few minutes, before Verity caught James’ eye. He motioned for her to catch, and pitched it in to her hands. Marlene, who was sat to her left, gave her a puzzled look. With a shrug of her shoulders, Verity began to read.

‘Lads, I’ve got a plan. Are you in? – J.’

‘That depends, what are you suggesting? – S.’

‘Yeh, sure! Wot is it? – P.’ 

‘R’s been AWOL for almost a week now. Fancy checking in on him? – J.’

‘V’s been up there every day, though. I’m surprised Pomfrey hasn’t hexed her. – S.’

‘Wouldnt it B better to wait? We've tried evrything, shes not budgin – P.’

‘Not everything...;) – J’

‘Don’t leave us in suspense, J! – S.’

‘Im not sure I like where this is goin – P’

‘Well, what would you say if I said I knew how to check on him, without ever setting foot past lil’ miss nursey? – J’

‘I’d say you’re either incredibly smart, or incredibly stupid :D – S.’

‘same. – P.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment. You know how we’ve got flying after charms? – J.’

‘Say no more, I’m IN. – S.’

‘guys, I think Ive missed sumthin here. – P.’

‘Come on, P, keep up. - J.’

‘We’re going to pay R a little visit, P. – S.’

‘I still dont understand…oh. you’ll B seen! – P.’

‘Don’t b such a flobberworm, P. I can guarantee we won’t. – J.’

‘Ah, and the plot thickens. I’m in, mate. Shall we tell Vez? She’ll want in on this, too. – S.’

‘Im prety sure if we dont tell her, we’ll get to see R anyway, cos we’ll all have beds in the HW – P.’

Verity chuckled, feeling the colour creep up her neck. Maybe she had been a little militant, when it came to their sickly friend.

‘I’m in. I want to know all the deets first, though. Effie will KILL ME if I let you die in the name of mischief – V.’

Showing Marlene, her friend snatched the parchment and scribbled her own message. It simply read,

‘Me too. – M’

Chucking the paper back to James, he read the newest additions and grinned, throwing her a wink along with his reply.

‘If things go my way, she’ll never have to find out. Meet us in the quad after practice. – J.’

As she tuned back in to Binns’ monotonous drawl, she had a feeling this plan was not as cut-and-dry as James was making it out to be.

***

“Oh God, I feel sick.” Muttered Lily, eyeing the broomstick on the ground with a look one gives a particularly vicious snake. 

“Aren’t you excited? This is the lesson I’ve been looking forward to the most!” Chandni whispered, her eyes alight with anticipation.

“No. I’m like a cat, really. I prefer to have my feet on solid ground, not whizzing through the air on a magic log.”

“Oh, lighten up, Evans. Flying is the best!” James leant casually against his broom with a wide grin – a new Nimbus 1001.

“Was I talking to you, Potter?”

“No, but if you’re going to whinge within earshot, I’m going to put in my two knuts.”

With a fierce scowl, she crossed her arms. Severus, who was stationed across from Lily, fixed James with a look of intense loathing.

“If only closed minds came with closed mouths.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Leave her alone, Potter. Haven’t you got anything better to do?”

“No, I’m not scheduled for any Snivelly-baiting until after class. Why, got any suggestions?” At this, the boy’s lip curled, and Lily rounded on James, her crimson hair whipping around her cheeks.

“Why do you have to be so awful all the time, James? Any niceness you do have is just ruined by all of…all of this.” She trilled, gesturing at him with a wave of her hand.

“I was only joking, Lily. Why do you have to be such a dementor? You suck the fun out of everything.”

“Well, why do you have to be such a toerag? You’re like a hangnail, painfully irritating.”

“No wonder you don’t like the idea of flying. The broom’s supposed to go in between your legs, Evans, not up your bum.” 

Lily gaped at Sirius, her cheeks growing steadily more pink as the laughter from the Gryffindor boys rang around the Quidditch pitch. Severus growled, starting towards them, as a voice rang across the arena.

“Quieten down, please. We’ll have no foolishness in this class.”

Madame Hooch surveyed the gaggle of students with a hawkish gaze, pacing up and down the line with a slow and deliberate gate.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to your first flying lesson. Now, who has flown before?” Hands shot up sporadically on both sides, some more confident than others. “Wonderful. For those of you who haven’t, flying is not the easiest of sports. It takes patience, determination, and a lot of practice. Today, we will be trying to get you off the ground. Hovering, at most.” At this, James groaned. Madame Hooch fixed her piercing yellow eyes upon him, but addressed the class as a whole. “I will only repeat myself once – I want absolutely no messing around. If I catch any of you endangering yourselves, or the lives of others, you’ll be off this pitch quicker than you can say ‘Quaffle.’” With another quick sweep, she continued. “Everyone, step up to the left side of your broom and say, ‘up!’.”

James and Verity accomplished this on their first attempt, along with Soren and two of her friends, Alaric Mulciber and Tristan Travers – part of Severus’ new gang. Mulciber had all the grace of a mountain troll, with ham-hands and block like feet. Travers, in contrast, was a wisp of a boy. If Verity had not disliked him so much already, she would be worried he may float away.

“Bet you’re glad we spent all those Summers racing around my garden.” Whispered James, with a nudge. Verity grinned in return, enjoying the low hum of the broom against her palm.

Severus seemed to be in two minds, as his broom rolled around the well-manicured grass. Peter and Lily, amongst others, were having much more trouble – theirs lay completely motionless, and seemed about as magical as something one would find in a muggle kitchen cupboard.

“Say it with conviction! Come on, put some welly in to it. UP!”

“Up!” Squeaked Lily, and her broom did the tiniest hop.

Severus was growing more and more irritated, as he shot James and Sirius a resentful glare. Both boys had brooms in hand, and were admiring James’ Nimbus. Cursing under his breath, he held out a quivering hand and snapped, “UP!”

The broomstick shot in to his hand with force, making him stumble. With a triumphant smirk, he glanced at Lily to see if she was watching. Instantly, he deflated, when he realised her eyes had been focused elsewhere. She grumbled in frustration, as her broom bucked half-heartedly on the floor.

“For those of you who have accomplished your ‘up’ command, you may mount your brooms and kick off. If you’re feeling confident, you may do a lap of the pitch. Lean with your broom to turn it. If I see any of you more than two foot off the ground, I shall start docking points.”

Verity delicately pushed off the ground, smiling as Marlene joined her. Chandni stomped with slightly too much gumption, and began to rise very quickly between them.

“Grab her leg!” Marlene hissed, as she clawed at Chandni’s foot. Pulling up on the nose of her broom, Verity rose quickly, and yanked Chandni down by the ankle.

“Oops.”

“Someone’s a bit eager.” Teased Marlene, as they giggled quietly between themselves. 

“Shall we take a lap? I bet we can catch up to those boneheads.”

Two boys were flying half way down the pitch, one more wobbly than the other. James looked totally at ease as he flew, both arms at his sides. For as long as Verity had known him, James had always been more happy in the air.

He was right – racing around his garden, and the meadow near the cottage, had certainly given them an advantage. However, it did not take long for Marlene and Chandni to find their wings, so to speak, as they all zoomed happily around the field. 

The rushing sensation in her ears, and the grass gently brushing the toe of her shoes, was thrilling in a way she could not quite describe. She could not believe how lucky she was – she wondered what her old school friends would think, if they could see her now.

Verity watched as Soren and the more able of the Slytherins circled across from them, like a murder of crows. One seemed to be a very confident flier, now her broomstick was airborne. She smiled at Verity, as they approached. Not the malicious smile of Soren, or the bared teeth of Mulciber, but a friendly grin. Brunette tendrils rippled in the breeze, as she motioned to the Gryffindor girls.

“I saw you flying out there! You’re pretty good, you know?”

“Thanks! So are you.”

“Not bad for a first time, eh?” She preened, jokingly, as Soren’s face soured.

“What are you talking to them for?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“They’re dirty, Lucy. You don’t want to be –“

The girl shot her a disgusted look. “My name is Lucinda, and they look perfectly clean to me.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. Those two, they’re… _mudbloods_ , and _her_ mum shagged a muggle.”

Verity scoffed, her face hot with rage, as Lucinda regarded her dorm mate with a cold, hard stare.

“What a load of dung.”

“What?”

“You heard me. What a load of purist dung.”

Mulciber, Severus’ thick-headed friend, guffawed.

“Are you one of those sympathisers, Talkalot? That’s a shame, they don’t last long in Slytherin.”

“Are you threatening me, Alaric?”

“No, just being honest. Salazar Slytherin would have drowned people like them at birth, and you’re defending them.”

“Lucky us civilised folk have moved past those dark days then, isn’t it?”

Marlene bobbed in uncomfortable silence, but Chandni had heard enough.

“You really think a word like ‘mudblood’ bothers me?”

“It should, you filthy little beast.”

“Oi!” Snarled Verity, her hand balling in to a fist. To her surprise, Chandni laughed.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, you idiot. I’ve dealt with racism my entire life, you think a boring little word like that is going to upset me? Remus was right, this hive-mind nonsense is hilarious. I feel sorry for you.”

Soren quailed under her fiery gaze, her eyes darting between Alaric and her equally unfortunate friend, Esme Flint. Lucinda smirked.

“Do you all feel better about yourselves now, or do you want to give it another shot?”

“Piss off, Lucinda.”

As they began the short walk back to the castle, Lucinda and her friend, Emmeline, jogged up behind them.

“I’m really sorry about them – clearly, some people around here were dragged up.”

“Cindy told me what they said – on behalf of Slytherin, I’d just like to say we aren’t _all_ like that.” Emmeline tucked a piece of raven hair behind her ear - her clear, hooded eyes crumpling in earnest.

“Thanks, you two.”

“Yes, thank you. Sorry I got so worked up, it’s just –“

“Don’t apologise, they absolutely deserved it.” Said Marlene, who still looked a little shaken. “I had no idea there was such a big divide between wizards and muggles. It’s like they _hate_ us.”

“Haven’t you been reading the Prophet? It’s just the same old story with a different twist.” Chandni’s laughter was hollow now, as Lucinda and Emmeline gave her sympathetic smiles.

“Well, we’ll have your backs, we can promise you that. There’s extremists in every House, but we won’t let our lot talk to you that way if we can help it. It’s so gross.”

“Agreed, it’s terrible – I really don’t want to be associated with that kind of nastiness.”

“Anyway, we’d best be getting back – Flitwick’s set us a foot on levitating charms.” Said Lucinda, with a groan. “It was nice to meet you, though – sorry it had to be under such awful circumstances. See you in Potions?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow!”

***

James, Sirius and Peter stood in the Quad, arms folded, as they walked up the path.

“What took you so long?”

“Just putting the world to rights, Potty.”

“What’s she talking about?”

“Oh, some dickheads from Slytherin called us ‘mudbloods’.” Said Chandni, airily. A few students around them uttered gasps, as James’ face fell.

“They did _what_? Who was it?” He asked, positively mutinous. Sirius pulled a face, his foot scuffing the floor. He seemed shocked by James’ level of rage.

“Wilkes and Mulciber, but don’t worry - Chandni and Cindy Talkalot put them right in their place.” Her friend grinned, as Verity bubbled with pride.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go – I told Lily that I’d meet her in the library. We’re supposed to be doing Charms homework, but I really can’t be bothered.”

“OooO, sounds _fun_ \- tell her we said hello!”

“Why, what are you guys doing?” Chandni eyed them, suspiciously.

“Nothing.” Said Marlene and Verity, a little too quickly.

“You two are about as subtle as a dragon with a sneeze.” James groused, as he ducked around the corner in to a small alcove. “Get in here, and I’ll show you.”

The five friends followed, their pace quickened by curiosity, as they crammed in to the shadowed nook.

“You’d better not have some kind of creature in there, Potter.”

James chuckled, as Chandni narrowed her eyes at him. “Nope, even better. Turn around.” When the group continued to gawk at him, he rolled his hazel eyes. “Go _on_.”

“C’mon, guys, we’d better do what he says – don’t want to ruin his big reveal.” Sniggered Verity, who knew very well of James’ flair for the dramatic. He stuck his tongue out, before twiddling his finger, and putting a hand on his hip expectantly.

After a lot of rustling and squeaking, he said, “Right, you can all look now.” When they turned back, he had vanished. 

Peter squealed, whipping his head around this way and that, as the rest of them exchanged looks. Where had he gone?

“TA DA!” He crowed, as his disembodied head appeared out of thin air. Marlene shrieked, stumbling back in to Sirius, and Verity jumped half a foot in the air - Chandni looked as though she was about to have a heart attack. Peter started clapping feverishly, much to James’ pleasure.

“Amazing! How did you do that, James? That must be N.E.W.T. level magic!”

Verity’s eyes narrowed, and she stretched out her arm. Cool cloth touched her skin, and she pulled – hard. As the cloak slipped away, James’ body was exposed, along with a very disappointed expression.

“Thanks a lot, you prick, I could have kept that going for ages.”

Verity cackled, waving the mysterious material just out of reach. “You lucky git. Monty finally gave it to you, then?”

“Gave him what?” Asked Marlene, as she reached for a fold of fabric. She gasped in wonderment, as her hand disappeared underneath it. Sirius, however, was awe-struck.

“I know what that is.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is…this is _brilliant_! Can you imagine all the stuff we can get away with, with one of these?” Lovingly stroking the fabric, his face broke out in a dreamy smile. “It’s an invisibility cloak, isn’t it? They’re so rare. Ha, my dad would sell his left nut for one of these…we’ve got loads of mouldy old artefacts rotting away at home, but nothing like _this_. Family heirloom, I assume?”

“Yep, passed down my dad’s side to the eldest son of every generation. My dad decided to give me this early – he doesn’t really use it anymore.”

Sirius let out a low whistle, while Marlene’s eyes gleamed with mischief. 

“So…you’re going to wear this, and fly up to the Hospital Wing, are you? I can’t wait to see how this plays out.” She snorted, her upturned nose crinkling with glee.

“No – Sirius _and_ I are going to fly up to the Hospital Wing. You guys are going to play look-out.”

“Well – have fun, you guys, but I’m going to have to sit this one out. I don’t want Lily to be by herself…you’ll have to tell me how it goes!” Chandni kept her tone cheerful, but the disappointment in her eyes was evident.

“I promise we’ll fill you in on all the details!”

As she trudged across the courtyard, James turned to the children in front of him – Verity recognised this look. It was the same look his father wore, when he was talking business.

“Now, Sirius and I will put the cloak on in here, and await your signal. One by the door, one in the courtyard, and one inside. When you’re in position, you’ll – wait, what signal should we do?”

Verity and Peter shrugged. Marlene put two fingers in her mouth, and let off an ear-splitting whistle. Sirius clapped a hand to his ears, scowling at her. She grinned shyly in return, popping her hands in her pockets.

“Well - I can whistle, but not as loud as Marlene.” 

“Um, I can’t whistle, but I can…ca-cah?” Squawked Peter, with a nervous giggle, as he looked up at his friends. Sirius snorted with laughter, as James rolled his eyes.

“Right. Verity, you by the opening. Marlene, you in the courtyard. Peter…you can go inside. If any of you see a teacher coming, do your signal.”

“Are we ready then, James?” Asked Sirius, with all the excitement of a puppy on his first walk.

“I’d say so, mate. Go on, then, you lot – scram.”

“Yeah, and Peter, don’t be all...squirrelly – you’ll look guilty.”

***

The wind had picked up since their flying lesson. As Peter and Marlene crossed the cobbles, Verity’s forehead creased with concern. This was practically a suicide mission. Why did she egg this on? Effie would, quite literally, wear her guts for garters, if her precious son died pulling some stupid prank – she was an elderly woman, but she was not someone to cross.

Verity’s mind wandered back a few Summers ago, when Monty had caught them throwing water bombs from under the cloak, at a load of stuffy old muggles from the Potter’s local church. A new book about magic had hit the shelves (thankfully, not an exposé from their own kind, but a harmless children’s book) and the members had been very vocal about their views on witchcraft. 

James and his family had been inundated with dreadful fliers through their doors, and plastered all over the local lamp-posts, calling magic ‘work of the devil’ - it had got James down in the dumps. It may not have been aimed at them directly, but it was his first glimpse in to the ‘divide’ that Marlene had spoken about. That archaic dislike between muggles and Wizarding folk. 

In all their infinite wisdom, at eight years old, they had decided to take matters in to their own hands. Verity winced, as she remembered Effie’s kindly, impish face change, when Monty had dragged them in to the kitchen by their ears.

“…NOT ONLY WAS THAT INCREDIBLY STUPID, BUT IT WAS ALSO INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS. WHAT IF YOU HAD BEEN SEEN? What do you think they would have done to you, hmm? Two children, appearing out of the breeze, like _magic_. Grounded, James. You’re grounded, two weeks - _don’t you argue with me, young man_. Verity, I’m calling your mother. I’m so disappointed in both of you.”

Her daydream was broken by a whistle, and Verity looked up. The Quad was fairly empty, with the exception of a few students milling back and forth. 

'No teachers, though,' thought Verity. 'That’s good.'

With a low whistle, she waited for the tell-tale sign of the boys’ departure.

“Ow!” She heard James grunt.

“Sorry, this isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“It’s easy when I croggy Verity.”

“Oh, well, I’ll just leave then, shall I? Let you two handle it?”

She heard the boys whip past her, as she stifled a giggle, pulling a book out of her bag and pretending to read.

***

Verity and Marlene had retreated to a bench, and were scrutinising the windows of the Hospital Tower with squinted eyes and pounding hearts. Every so often, the nose of the Nimbus, or the twigs, or even an entire foot would appear, before it was hastily withdrawn beneath the cloak. Each time, the lump that formed reminded her of a chocolate frog, desperately jumping and clamouring to escape her throat.

She and Marlene tried to look inconspicuous, but as the seconds ticked by, their acting became worse. Verity’s book had drooped to her knees, and Marlene’s bird-spotting routine was already wearing thin.

“This was definitely not one of James’ better ideas.” She said, biting at the loose, chapped skin of her lip.

“What’s he done now?” Called a familiar voice, as the lanky frame and slanted grin of Remus Lupin came ambling in to view.

“He’s, err, visiting you.” Replied Verity, with a guilty chuckle, as he fell in to the seat next to her. 

“Me?”

“You’ve been gone since Saturday, Reems. We were worried about you. Old Pomf wouldn’t let us in, so we took drastic action.”

“Correction – Verity was worried about you, we were all sick of hearing about it.” Teased Marlene, as Verity lightly punched her in the leg. “Chill out, I’m only joking. It’s good to have you back, we were –“

“ _Cacah_ …”

“Oh, no…is that?”

“Ca-cah…ca-CAH! CA-CAHHH!” Cried Peter, as he stumbled in to the courtyard. His blue eyes were bulging, and his hands were flapping as he ran.

“I-it’s M-M-“

“What the –“

Marlene let out a shriek of a whistle.

“McGonagall! It’s McGonagall - she’s coming!”

As they looked up, a particularly strong gust of wind blew the cloak clean off the boys. Sirius had his hand on the latch of the window.

“Oh, cripes.” Said Remus, burying his face in his hands. From the depths of the Hospital Wing, they heard,

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“AAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!” The boys bellowed, in reply to Madam Pomfrey’s ear-splitting shriek. Sirius wobbled and fell backwards, still holding James around the middle. 

“Shit! Someone HELP!” Verity screamed, her hand flying over her mouth, as Marlene grabbed her other, clamping her eyes shut. Remus started to search for his wand, as Peter dithered in front of them, before running back towards the stone archway. Before he arrived, they heard the distinct voice of their House Mistress cry,

“ARESTO MOMENTUM!”

She had arrived in a flurry of red and gold, storming across the courtyard with a face like thunder. James and Sirius hung in the air, cloaks billowing in slow motion. Their hair looked as though it was underwater. Slowly, they began to descend. As they hit the ground with a thud, Lily and Chandni skidded in to view. The latter doubled herself over and caught her breath, as Lily made a beeline for the bench.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think he would tell.” Wheezed Chandni.

“What do you mean, who told who what?”

Lily’s reply was cut short, by the ferocious yowl of Minerva McGonagall.

“ _Never_ in my time, teaching at this school, has anyone done something so _foolish_ – and in your second week, no less? You could have been killed. Explain yourselves. Now.”

James grinned as he got to his feet, only to rearrange his expression in to something much more humble once McGonagall’s formidable gaze had rested upon him. Sirius, however, stood defiant.

“We wanted to pop in for tea with Madam Pomfrey, Miss, but she didn’t seem too keen on the idea.” He swaggered, while James looked at him with a mixture of trepidation and awe.

“You can wipe that smirk off your face, Mister Black. This is going to cost you both much more than a night’s worth of detentions.” Bristling, she asked, “was anyone else involved in this ridiculous plot?” Her scarlet robes matched the colour of her anger, blooming in splotches across her cheeks.

“No, Professor.” Said Sirius, loyally. “Just us.”

“Odd, isn’t it? How it’s just these particular Gryffindors out here today.” Verity busied herself with her book, as she felt the woman’s gaze land upon her.

“They all ditched us to study, Miss, so we thought we’d find something to do. Voila, this was it.”

“They did all this…for me?” Asked Remus, in a small voice, as James and Sirius continued their jaunt in to dangerous territory. Professor McGonagall’s features were becoming more and more pinched with each passing second.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re our friend, Remus.” Verity replied, with a grin. “Plus, I’m pretty sure those two would take any opportunity to cause a bit of mayhem, so – don’t feel bad, they brought this upon themselves.”

As they watched the pair try to argue their way out of a punishment, the small smile on Remus’ face grew. James and Sirius were ushered off to the Headmaster, and there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Wait for me, you lot, I need to find James’ cloak.” Hollered Verity, as she began to search – he’d be gutted if he lost it. The item in question lay between two plant pots, the Demiguise fur glistening in the sun. Snatching it up, she stowed it in her bag, and trotted back to her friends.

“Thanks, you know, for all the books and things. It was really nice of all of you.” Murmured Remus, as they tramped towards the Entrance Hall.

“Well, you know, you’d barely been here three days before this horrible bug knocked you for six – we just wanted you to know we were thinking of you.” Verity ignored the hotness of her cheeks, and flashed him a warm smile.

They continued on in comfortable silence. She thought back to James’ face, when he’d popped out from under the cloak, and a bubble of laughter escaped her lips. Truth be told, Verity had been pleased to have this little prank to take her mind off things for a while. Not only had she been worried about Remus, but also, the new rumours circling the school, about the haunted house in Hogsmeade village. Not to mention, those cryptic dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Back once again like the renegade master._
> 
> Hello, all, hope you're having a good week so far! 
> 
> Chapter 10 was being a bit of a diva, sorry it took so long.
> 
> Much love to you all - any and all feedback is welcome, and appreciated!
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> When all of you gorgeous creatures get a chance, please check out [Gryffindor's Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772564) by [carloabay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay) \- it's a Marauder's Era fic, too, and it's all kinds of magical. I promise, you won't regret it ;)


	11. Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows

“Thank _bloody_ Merlin.”

Verity looked up from her Transfiguration essay, as the portrait of the Fat Lady slammed shut. James and Sirius waddled towards the boys stairs, with equally disgusted expressions. Retches and groans echoed across the common room, as a putrid odour wafted silently across the floor like bio-chemical warfare. Their robes dripped with an unknown substance, creating a potent snail trail in their wake.

“If I never see another mason jar ever again, I’ll be happy.” Grumbled Sirius. He flicked his wrist in the way a cat would, if it had stepped in something slimy. A 4th year let out a noise of revulsion, as gunk flew past their ear – a glob of goo landing on their textbook. Sirius, however, seemed not to notice.

“What was it this time?” Asked Remus, who was fighting to hide his amusement. James grimaced – if he could have run away from his own stench, he would have.

“Cleaning. Slughorn had us scraping out all the old Potions storage.” His mouth barely opened as he spoke, not wanting to breathe in the fumes.

“Have you ever smelt mouldy frogspawn? If not, my suggestion is don’t. Ever.” Said Sirius, teeth bared as he fought the urge to be sick.

Lily snorted, flicking her hair casually over her shoulder as she continued with her homework. James rounded on her, his brindle eyes mere slits.

“Something funny, Evans?”

“Well, you’ve certainly made my day. Two toads covered in swamp matter? I-“

“Oh, give it a rest. A month of detentions, a flying ban, and my broom confiscated until the end of term. You think that’s fair, do you?”

“Well, it _was_ very dangerous, James. They’re just trying to make an example.”

“It wasn’t _very dangerous_ ,” He said, mimicking her voice in a girlish squeak, “If you and your hook-nosed pal had kept your abnormally large noses out of it, we would have got away with it.”

Lily scoffed, “Yeah, with a few dozen broken bones apiece. Severus only meant to-“

“ _Snivellus_ is a slimy git. Anyway, this has been fun, but we’ve got a date with a hot shower. Don’t fall in to a cauldron of rat guts while we’re gone, Evans – that would be just _awful_.”

“Well, that’s the last time either of us try to help either of you!” She yelled, as the boys squelched off up the stair case.

Chandni looked guilty, while Lily sat with her arms crossed.

“It’s lucky Severus did tell McGonagall, you know. Potter and Black would have been pancaked if she hadn’t arrived when she did.”

“Lily, I don’t think Sev’s intentions were righteous ones. I know he’s your friend, but –“

“No, I know, I’m not thick.” She snapped, as Chandni raised an eyebrow. “But, still – he saved their lives. They should be grateful.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re ever going to see it that way.” Said Chandni, with a snort, as she turned to walk towards the portrait hole. “Are you coming? Dinner will be over soon.” She asked, over her shoulder.

“Yes, alright then - I’m supposed to be meeting Sevvy, anyway.”

“Oh, I’ll come, too! I forgot about dinner, I’m starving.” Said Marlene, as she began to pack away her books.

Remus looked up from the coffee table, smiling as he nudged Verity with his foot. She was sat, hunched and cross-legged in front of him on the floor, sharing his notes that were strewn across the coffee table. He didn’t mind, of course – usually, he kept things very neat, but he had accepted the fact that ‘Verity’ and ‘neat’ didn’t usually fall in to the same category.

Ash brown hair spilled over her shoulders and curled around her like a canopy, as she scribbled furiously about the differences between the Transfiguration alphabet and their own.

“True?” He whispered. “Are you going to dinner? The girls are packing up now.”

Verity pondered for a moment, pushing her glasses back in to place with the tip of a finger, and tucking her messy hair behind her ear.

“Well, you’re leaving for the wedding tomorrow, aren’t you?” She asked, regarding the sickly boy in front of her. Remus was poorly again - his usually bright eyes were now a sunken, moss green, and his skin was clammy and greying. He nodded, folding his reading glasses and stowing them safely in their case. “How about you and I take a trip to the kitchens, and we continue studying? Peter will be back from Gobstones Club soon, he can join us.”

“Yeah, okay.” Said Remus, with a tired smile. Rubbing his hand over his face, he snapped his briefcase open and began to gather his papers. “Shall we get enough for James and Sirius, too?”

“We probably should, you know. Those boys will be even more of a nightmare if they aren’t fed.” Verity snickered, “See you back down here in five, I’m just going to dump this stuff upstairs.”

As she trotted towards her dormitory, she couldn’t help but think that Remus’ Uncle Earl would rather him stay at school, in this state. What if he was contagious? Surely he wouldn’t want all the guests to fall ill.

Plonking her satchel down on the bed, she shrugged off her Gryffindor jumper, and pulled on her dressing gown and slippers instead. If she was going to be studying all night, she _at least_ wanted to be comfy.

***

“This was certainly one of my better ideas.” Joked Verity, as she crawled through the hole in the wall.

“I whole-heartedly agree.” Remus, whose arms were stacked with brown paper parcels, sounded oddly muffled behind the pile. Verity hastily took some of the weight, being careful not to spill the contents.

Their quest had been most fortuitous – bangers and mash, with gravy, root vegetable medley, and sticky toffee pudding oozing with vanilla custard for dessert. Verity’s mouth watered, as she pictured the food in her mind.

They were met with laughter and the general hustle and bustle of after-dinner madness. It seemed as though every wizard and his cat was in the common room, cramped in to corner booths and lazing over the sofas. 

By the fire, a small group had congregated, which appeared to have James Potter and Sirius Black at the centre, and Peter stood like a proud parent next to them. Quidditch Captain Gideon Prewett, and his brother Fabian, were among them, and a witch Verity did not recognise. The three of them stuck out like a sore thumb, with their shock of red hair and howls of laughter. James seemed to be re-enacting his and Sirius’ fall from the Hospital Tower, to many an eager on-looker. Fabian clapped him on the back, gesturing wildly as he launched in to a story of his own.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anywhere to sit.” Mumbled Remus, hitching the packages further up his chest.

“I’d suggest we sit on the floor, but I’m worried we’ll get trampled.” Said Verity, biting her lip. “We can study in my dorm, if you like? I’m sure the girls won’t mind.”

“No, that won’t work.” Verity shot Remus a puzzled look, and he laughed. “The stairs, remember? The girls stairs are enchanted – I won’t even make it two steps.”

“Oh yeah, I can’t believe I forgot about that! Are the boys stairs the same?”

“No, not that I’m aware.”

“Right, look after these.” Said Verity, deserting her spoils on the closest table - the occupants looked unimpressed, as Remus attempted to avoid their gaze.

“Are you sure you want to do this…in front of everyone?” Asked Remus, his thick brow raised in jest.

“It’s a win-win situation, my friend. If it works, we get to eat in peace. If it doesn’t, it’ll at least get a laugh or two. Right.” She said, as she steeled herself. Placing a tentative toe on the first step, she winced. When nothing happened, she hopped up another two. Turning to face her friend, she raised her arms in victory. “I am stealth personified.”

“Of course you are.” The boy gave her a knowing smirk, as she started loading herself up with the food once more.

“Boys, we got you some din dins! Are you coming?”

“Yeah, and - hold on, sorry – did you say you’d got us food, Wildey?” Asked James as he abandoned his conversation, his face lit up like a beacon of hope.

“Yup.”

“Ooo, what did you get?” Asked Peter, his blue eyes shining as he wrung his pudgy hands.

“Bangers, mash, and pud. If you want it, we’ll be upstairs – it’s too loud down here, and there’s nowhere to sit.”

“You are an absolute star. Thank you.”

“No, Jim Jams - Sirius is the star. _I’m_ an angel.” The two boys laughed as she tripped up the stairs in her white fluffy slippers.

“Clearly, and just as graceful.”

“Shut up, Sirius.”

***

The dorm was almost exactly how she had imagined it. 

Remus’ night stand was adorned with books - some magic, some muggle - and an old, wooden frame, which held a photo of his parents. They waved at Verity as she plonked herself down on his bed. She noticed the curtain had been fixed, as all four sides were hanging neatly in their ties.

Peter’s bed was littered with sweet wrappers, and lay un-made, just like James’. He also had a picture of his parents, and they looked much the same as they had on the platform – a stout, weepy woman blowing a kiss, and a broad, stoic man with a menacing aura.

The ceiling above James’ bed sported a large Chudley Cannons poster of the three chasers, all zooming about the pitch in formation. He had a picture of Effie and Fleamont on his night stand, and a notebook that was simply titled ‘Pranks’.

The bed that bothered her, was Sirius’. His bedside table was bare, and he didn’t seem to have decorated his space at all. She had been expecting at least a poster or two, or a few pictures of his family, like the rest of them.

‘Maybe he hasn’t gotten around to it,’ Verity supposed, as she swung her legs in time to a silent rhythm. Remus stood awkwardly in the doorway, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry about all the mess, I should have asked those goblins to clean up.”

“Don’t be silly, Reems, you should see my room! Let’s just say, out of the four of us, I’m not the organised one.”

“I’m sure the girls _love_ that.”

Verity stuck her tongue out in response, and began to unwrap their dinner.

It wasn’t long before the tempting scent of sausages filled the air, and Remus’ stomach grumbled with hunger. He chuckled, as he plonked himself down on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?” She asked, with a giggle.

“Well, err-“

“Don’t be silly, there’s enough room up here for both of us!” With a sheepish smile, he joined her. Sitting criss-cross, they clumsily shared the food out between them, taking extra care not to spill gravy on the bed.

A comfortable silence fell, except for the smacking of lips and light clinking of metal on metal. Remus picked at his food, taking short breaks to decipher his scribbled notes, and to jot things down. His once-majestic Eagle feather quill was rather haggard, and Verity wondered if that had also been a hand-me-down from Lyall. Every so often, he would grumble or murmur under his breath, and scratch something out.

“Whoever decided Transfiguration needed its own alphabet, is currently my least favourite person.”

Verity shook her head, sniggering as she made a start on her pudding.

***

After dinner, and pudding, and making their way through most of their theory and translations, Verity and Remus talked. They talked about classes, and teachers, and their friends. They talked about the Daily Prophet, and all the awful headlines they had seen that week. As the clock ticked closer to midnight, and Remus’ dorm mates were nowhere to be seen, their chatter turned to the rumours of the haunted house in Hogsmeade. Verity’s weekly trip to her aunt’s had been illuminating, to say the least.

“Aunty Peg told me it only started in September,” said Verity, stretching her legs with a hiss, as they threatened to cramp, “and, it only seems to have happened once last month.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! She said everyone in the village is acting like it’s always been that way, and she can’t understand it, because the shack has stood abandoned since before she moved there.” 

“Hmm.”

“It’s so odd - it’s got the whole school in a right tizz, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Remus…are you okay?”

Looking up from his hands, he gave a pained smile. “Sure, just…feeling a bit sick.”

“Oh no, of course! I’m so sorry, here’s me talking your ear off about ghost stories. I’ll head out, you need rest-“

“No, no, it’s okay. Sorry, I’m ready to be sociable.” He spoke quickly, but with an assuring tone. His glasses lay wonky across his nose, as he brushed a lock of hair from his face.

“It’s getting really late, though, Remus. You must be shattered.”

“Honestly, I’m fine - promise.” Holding out his pinky finger, she took it with her own, and offered him a small smile.

“Okay, then.” Her eyes turned from Remus to the door, and she frowned. “I wonder where the boys are?”

“Probably causing havoc somewhere, you know what they’re like.”

“That’s true, especially with the Prewett brothers in tow. You’d think after four weeks of detentions, they’d hang up their troublemaker hats for a bit.”

“I thought you’d known James all your life?”

“I have?”

“I’ve known him a month, and, I can already tell you - James will never fully hang up that hat.”

Their laughter was quiet, but warm, as Verity curled up like a cat on the end of his bed. Peter’s rat, aptly named Rattie, trundled around his wheel, the rumbling and squeaking creating a melody of its own. Remus’ lop-sided grin was the last thing she saw as her eyes closed.

“Tell me a story, Remus.” 

“What about?”

“Anything - I miss your stories.”

And so, he did. 

He spoke of the Headless Hunt, and how they galloped on ghostly horseback - juggling and playing polo with their own severed heads. He told her a story, passed down by his father, of the time they played Headless Bowling in the Great Hall and scared the wits out of all the Firsties. Soon, his voice began to falter, and the yawning became more frequent – Verity hadn’t spoken for a while now. His eyes slipped closed for the last time, and he succumbed to sleep.

***

“OI! What’s all this, then?”

Verity awoke with a start, nearly tumbling off the bed. Her back ached from the awkward position she had fallen asleep in, and her legs had seized. Remus blinked thickly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he scooted closer to his headboard. Massaging the back of his neck, he winced. James stood, hands on hips, looking very much like his mother. Sirius and Peter appeared behind him, trying to stifle their giggles.

“Oh no, we must have fallen asleep.” Remus rasped, before clearing his throat. “What time is it? It was past midnight, last time I checked.”

“Around 2ish. Chandni was looking for you earlier, Vezza, she’s worried.”

“Yeah, I told her you’d probably been eaten by the squid.”

“Thanks, Sirius, that was helpful of you, seeing as you knew I was up here.”

“Well, you know me – I aim to please, and I’m always happy to be of service.”

“That…that sounds like the opposite of who you are.”

“I am hurt, Wilde. Offended, and hurt.” Verity laughed at his pouty face, stretching her arms above her head to reset her bones. As things clicked back in to place, she grimaced, rolling her shoulders.

“What have you guys been up to, anyway? You’re all looking awfully…chipper.” Peter, as though staring down the business-end of a wand, tugged at the collar of his robes.

“N-nothing, just um – in the library?”

“At two in the morning?”

“Um, well, yes. We had the cloak, and-“

“Peter, they know you’re lying.” Said Sirius, flopping down on his bed. He hadn’t even bothered to take his shoes off, as he folded his arms behind his head and settled back to watch the show. Peter shot him a warning glance, but James merely grinned - throwing himself on to his own bed, and turning to face them.

“All will be revealed, my friends.”

As Verity shuffled back to her dorm, she pondered all the possibilities she could be met with in the morning.

***

“Holy mother of Merlin.”

Upon entering the Great Hall, it looked to Verity as though a herd of unicorns had come down with a severe case of food-poisoning. Everywhere she looked, there were rainbows. The Slytherins seemed to have bore the brunt of it, with everything from their banner to their napkins dyed in garish shades of orange, violet, green…

“This is brilliant.” Giggled Marlene, as she walked arm-in-arm with Lily.

“I wonder how they did it? This is wicked, I love it!” Squealed Chandni, gasping as a centrepiece exploded in a cloud of crimson smoke on the Gryffindor table.

Scanning her eyes across the madness, Verity could see Severus grumpily tucking in to his food. Close by, Cindy and Emmeline were tittering amongst themselves, tying the napkins around their necks and turning them in to fashion statements. The Hufflepuffs were happily embracing it, and the Ravenclaws were collectively impressed by the execution. Even Dumbledore, who sat with a rainbow napkin tucked in to the front of his robes, was smiling gleefully, speaking in hushed tones to Peg as they discussed the gaudy scene.

James, Sirius and Peter tried desperately to keep a straight face, as pink streamers fell from the ceiling and landed in the food.

“I must say, this is not what I was expecting at all.” Muttered Remus, digging in to his toast.

“They must have had help, though. My bet’s on the Prewett brothers.”

“Agreed – this is definitely not first year magic.”

As if their ears were burning, Gideon and Fabian appeared. The latter put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, as he leant in.

“I think congratulations are in order, you three.”

“Yeah,” said his brother, with a grin, “it all went off without a hitch.”

“It was all you guys, really.” Said James, modestly. “Where’s Patricia?”

“Oh, you know, just working on the last finishing touches.”

“There’s more?” Chandni could barely hide her excitement, as she leaned across the table.

Gideon smirked, shooting her a wink. “Of course - there’s _always_ more.”

As he spoke, the doors flew open, and Peeves the poltergeist appeared, laden with water balloons. To Verity’s horror, she realised they were not filled with water – but paint.

“Surprise!” He screeched, before all hell broke loose.

Grabbing Remus by the hand, she dived under the table, just as a bomb whistled past her ear. Tugging on Chandni’s robe, she caught her attention, and her friend slithered in next to her…covered in yellow paint.

“Oops.” Remus laughed, before pointing his wand at Chandni and muttering, “Tergeo.” The paint began to lift from her face, siphoning in to the end of Remus' wand.

James, Sirius and Peter appeared next, roaring with laughter, followed by Marlene.

“Lily’s not impressed, she just took a paint bomb to the face.” The girl wheezed, as she scooted closer to Chandni.

“Serves her right,” crowed James, “that’s the least she deserves!”

“Don’t be such a troll, James. At least she doesn't stink.” Said Verity, as she risked a peek. Students were running in every direction, as Peeves pelted them from above. His theatrical cackle could be heard above the din, which was a remarkable feat, as the noise level was on par with the last Quidditch World Cup. Lily stood, eyes and mouth clamped shut, visibly seething. Her face, and the front of her robes, were only a few shades lighter than her hair.

Out of the corner of Verity's eye, she spotted movement by the entrance. Leaning up against the doorway, was a witch with long, copper hair and a triumphant expression. She nodded to Peeves, before disappearing with a swish of her robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it's her - the _Queen of Procrastination_!
> 
> Sup, gang. Sorry this chapter has taken a while - as usual, my life was more chaotic than originally planned.
> 
> Please take this chapter as a token of my undying love, devotion and affection (to the Marauders.)
> 
> ALSO, I have come to the realisation that 17 chapters is simply _not_ enough, so I've added 4 more, and I have ~~finally~~ written a proper summary. You're welcome ✨
> 
> Much love to you all, hope this global pandemic ain't gettin' you down 💖
> 
> Kudos and comments are _always_ appreciated 🥰 Lemme know what you think!
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> (I'm not sure if I love or hate the name of this chapter, but, for now, it's the one I've gone with. Fight me.)


	12. Illuminating Conversations

With her head in one hand, and a shiny blue marble in the other, Verity desperately tried to block out the chatter. She had been attempting to beat Vera Thorne at Gobstones for some time now, but it was proving rather difficult. Plus, Vera’s younger brother, Jonathon, was blowing bubbles in his sherbet lemonade, and the noise was starting to grate on her. He was a rambunctious five year old, with full cheeks and an infectious giggle. He still had his milk-teeth, which he showed off with a toothy grin, as he inspected his handiwork. Their parents had Order business with Fenella and Russ, and it had been left up to Verity to entertain them.

Vera was in Verity’s year at school – a Ravenclaw. She was a shy, willowy girl, with long, dark hair and lots of patience. She shared a dorm with Dorcas Meadowes and Francesca Fallow, who the gang had become rather close with over the last couple of months. The girls often spent their Charms lessons together, and had formed a little study group in the library with Remus and Peter. 

When her mother had told her that Vera and Jonathon would be popping round that day, she had been so excited. She could show them around the forest, and the treehouse, and chase fairies with Archie through the glen. Unfortunately, her mother had other ideas.

“Absolutely not.” She barked, folding Verity’s jeans in to a laundry basket. “You’re to stay inside. The meeting won’t take long, I’m sure you can find something to do.”

“But, mum –“

“No ‘but’s, Verity. The… _issue_ has not yet been resolved, and I’m not letting you out of my sight. It would be irresponsible of me to allow you and the children to go gallivanting unsupervised through the woods.”

Her mother, of course, was referring to the mole. She had thought that her Half Term would be full of adventure – as per usual. Unfortunately, she had thought wrong. So, the three children were confined to the kitchen, tasked with keeping themselves busy as the adults went about their business. 

Verity squealed in horror, as a jet of vile-smelling goo splattered all over her glasses. Jonathon roared with laughter, as Vera leant over to clean them off. 

“Has there been any more activity in Clitheroe?” Asked Fenella, nursing a cup of tea. Verity and the children quietened down, all secretly hoping that they may hear more than they should.

“No. If they are still there, they have moved underground.” Murmured Amelia, Vera’s mother, as she flicked absently through the latest offering from the Prophet. She had a neat, dark bob, and a prematurely lined face, that had aged well beyond her years. She and her husband, Derek, worked for the Werewolf Capture Unit, and there had been a lot of over-time as of late. Her half-moon spectacles fogged slightly, as she took a swig of her coffee. 

“The Ministry are turning a blind eye to it – surprise, surprise,” Said Derek, his dark, wiry moustache twitching as he smoothed his tie, “but I think we should keep an eye on it. Seems important.”

Verity tried to focus on the game, but her mind was annoyingly blank. In all honesty, she couldn’t even remember what she was supposed to be doing, at this point. She was far too pre-occupied with the taboo conversation happening less than two feet away. 

Amelia lay the paper gently on the table, her face sombre, and her shoulders stiff. Clasping her hands together - a little tighter than necessary - she took a deep breath, and steadied her nerves.

“There has been another attack. Twenty dead, this time –“ Fenella’s hand flew to her mouth, as Amelia cleared her throat to continue. The woman’s voice had a waver to it now, as her husband placed his hand on her knee. “The muggle media are calling it a _gas explosion_ , but-” Amelia threw a pointed look towards the end of the table, and cleared her throat, “things may not be quite as they seem.”

Verity busied herself with her Gobstones, trying to look unconcerned. Fenella cast her a quick glance, before she muttered,

“Where did it happen?

“Clarkston, East Renfrewshire.”

“That’s in Scotland, isn’t it?” Three sets of eyes swivelled towards the youngsters, as Verity cast her piece. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amelia give her mother a brisk nod. After a moment’s silence - only broken by a disgusted groan from Vera, as she, too, got a face full of goo - Fenella asked, “I wonder where Russ has got to? It’s not like him to be late.”

“He’s probably been held up.’ Derek cleaned Vera’s face with a flick of his wand, and lit up his old cherrywood pipe. Verity pulled a face, as the thick, aromatic smoke curled in front of her, dancing in the shards of light slicing across the table.

The Order were assembling in smaller clusters now. Meetings had become sporadic – handfuls of people gathering at odd times of the day, dotted throughout the week. It was never the same face twice. The northern faction were moving carefully, so that they did not arouse too much suspicion.

As Derek discussed the latest album by The Doors, there was a rhythmic knock.

“That’ll be Lockett, I bet.” Said Amelia, placing the newspaper down once again, as Fenella stepped out of the room. To their surprise, it was not.

“Afternoon.” Verity’s Uncle Corban strode in to the room, holding a large, black briefcase. He was a tall, broad man, with long, blonde hair and a confident smile. “Peggy sends her love.” He placed the box on the counter, and smoothed down his robes. “Amelia, Derek – how good to see you.”

“Yaxley.” Said Derek, as he shook his hand. Amelia gave him a curt nod, which he returned with a pinched smile. 

“I had no idea that you knew Fenella. Small world, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed. How’s work?” Derek took another deep drag on his pipe. Rings of grey and blue circled above his head, as he regarded the man before him. Verity looked at Vera, who raised her eyebrow. Tension hung in the air – something unspoken.

“Oh, you know – same old, same old. It pays the bills.” From his briefcase, he began to pull jar upon jar of herbs from Peggy’s garden in slow, deliberate movements. It was a peculiar image, like that of a clown car with too many people inside, as jars of different shapes and sizes appeared from behind the lid. Placing the last one upon the counter, he said, “I’m surprised that Gevaudan let you have a day off – aren’t your department having a bit of a crisis at the moment?”

“The werewolf activity is rather high, isn’t it?” Amelia agreed, carefully. “We had some holiday to use, and thought, why not? Best get it out the way before it really ramps up, eh?”

“Understandable.” Said Corban, with a short nod. “Well, I shall leave you to your catch up. Nice to see you all. Verity – send your father my regards.” With a short wave, and a wink in Verity’s direction, he had gone. It was hard to miss the uncomfortable look that Fenella and the Thornes shared between them. 

Vera looked at Verity, who was equally confused – she wished they would talk freely in front of them, it only made her more curious to act this way. She wouldn’t tell _anyone_ anything, she couldn’t understand why they were still being so secretive. 

She supposed their discomfort had something to do with Corban’s job – working as administration for the Wizengamot made him dangerous. He might have been grunt level, but if they caught even the slightest whiff of a group of rogue Aurors and Ministry Members, they would shut it all down. People would lose their jobs over this.

Fenella jumped, as there was another knock on the door.

She scuttled quietly out of the kitchen, as Amelia and Derek exchanged glances. Russ walked in, all smiles and ruffled hair, looking like he’d been doing ninety on a broom.

“Sorry we’re late, I made a bit of a pit stop. Is it alright if Wynne joins us?” From behind him, appeared a very flushed looking witch. She grinned, and offered them a small wave. “If not, I can send her packing.”

“Oi!” She yelled, with a playful shove to his arm. “Don’t be rude, you git!”

Amelia and Derek regarded the pair with serious expressions.

“We should really be sticking to the rules, you two – we have them for a reason.” Amelia griped, her lips pursed as she cleaned her glasses. Placing them back on her face, she sighed. “However, you’re here now - I don’t see why not.” She conceded, with a knowing smile. “Come on, though, we don’t have much time left. Let’s get started.”

“Alright, Vezza? Vera?” Asked Russ, as he passed the table. “I hope this means you’ve both done my assignment, if you’re giving yourself time to play Gobstones.” He teased, as Wynne rolled her eyes at him.

“Of course. You know us, sir - all work and no play.” They grinned at him as he laughed, shaking his head. Turning to the witch beside him, her smile broadened. “Hey Wynne!”

“How’s school going?” Wynne was no longer blonde, she had gone back to her roots and let her natural, dark curls take over. The copper of her skin was complimented by a navy blue jumper, and gold hoop earrings. As Verity went to reply, Amelia tutted at them from the door and tapped her watch, causing Wynne to let out a laugh. “Tell me all about it later, okay? I want to know _everything_.” She rumpled Verity’s hair as she left, causing the small girl to let out a squawk of indignation and swat her hand away. Russ and Wynne’s laughter could be heard all through the house, until they disappeared behind the office door.

***

Half Term felt like it had ended far too quickly. The days had blurred, in a haze of old faces and new. Verity hadn’t seen any more of Jonathon or Vera, and she hadn’t seen nearly as much of Alastor, Russ or Wynne as she had wanted to. Both weekends had been spent at her father’s in Blackburn, playing snakes and ladders and exploding snap in his living room. 

Verity had taken her aunt’s advice, and started using the dream journal. The pieces were coming together slowly, but the picture was still unclear. It frustrated Verity to no end, and she would spend hours pouring over her notes. She was glad to be back at school, if she was completely honest with herself, as it gave her something else to focus on. 

Now, she was sat in the Great Hall, surrounded by skeletons singing ‘The Monster Mash’ and swarms of enchanted bats screeching over-head. Instead of candles, jack-o’-lanterns hung suspended in the air, casting the room in an eerie orange glow. 

The Elves had outdone themselves, this Halloween Feast. Each serving platter had been meticulously labelled – with dishes such as mud pie with real wiggling worms, and frogspawn soup. Sirius and James avoided this with a particular ferocity. Sausages had been cut like witches fingers, with an oozing tomato and mozarella filling. There was garlic mash, to ward off vampires, newt’s eyeballs (that were really just peas,) and dragon’s blood tonic - blood orange juice with a magic kick, that left one smoking at the ears.

Not far down the table, the boys from Dorm Three speculated loudly over the rumours spreading around the school. This was nothing new, as the stories about the haunted house had become more and more elaborate over the past couple of months. Students spoke about it in stage whispers, huddled in corners, and shared their ideas about what could have happened there. Some of them were particularly gruesome.

“I think someone was _murdered_ there,” said a boy called Crevan Proudfoot, through a mouthful of potatoes. His curly blonde hair was practically cherubic, as it spiralled in to his large blue eyes.

“My brother said one of the seventh years told him that it sounded more animal than human.” Said Ken Kido, with a shudder.

“Yeah,” Agreed Basil, spearing a dumpling. As he chewed, he looked thoughtful. “I think they’re on to something. Doesn’t explain why it only started this year, though.” 

Remus shifted in his seat, his knuckles white against his cutlery. Verity raised an eyebrow, nudging her knee against his. Unreadable eyes met her own, as he gave her a quick smile, before looking back down at his supper.

“Are you okay?” She asked, in a hushed tone. He nodded lightly, popping a green bean in to his mouth. 

Tuning back in to her friends, she realised they were discussing their holidays. James had spent the majority of it on his broom. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had allowed him to take it home, as long as he promised not to bring it back. From the moment he woke up in the morning, until his parents called him in at dusk, he had been zooming around the Potter Estate with the wind in his unruly black hair.

Marlene and her sister had been to visit their grandparents in London, and Sirius was asking her questions about the Underground. He had never taken it himself, but had heard about it from his parents – the way Marlene described it was not what he had been expecting at all.

“It’s brilliant! It’s like an underground train that takes you from A to B – you have to stand up most of the time, but as long as you hold on, you’re usually alright. Just have to remember to bend the knees.”

“Isn’t it really dirty?” Asked Sirius, his expression unconvinced.

“Well, it’s not the most hygienic place in the world, but as long as you don’t lick anything I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

As Verity watched them, Tadgh McCarthy, who was sat a few feet down the Gryffindor table with the Dorm Three boys, called across to her.

“Good Half Term, Vez?” He asked, with a broad smile on his face. Verity blushed, as her head whipped round, with her eyes as round as puffskeins. She kicked herself, as she broke in to a full blown grin like a fool. 

“Not bad, thanks. You?”

“Yeah - grand, thanks. Just grand.” Their friends had fallen silent, watching the exchange with great interest. Verity wished the ground would just swallow her up. “Did ye get up to much, then?”

She could feel her blush deepening, as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap. Why was he talking to her? She couldn’t remember a time when they had spoken more than two words to each other. 

“Just board games and homework, mostly.” She replied, truthfully – how uncool. 

“Ah, right.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, at a loss for words. It seemed as though he had not quite thought this through, as his friends struggled to keep their laughter in check. “Well - it was, er, nice to catch up. Must crack on, got ta’ start working on my costume. Talk to you soon, yeah?” He stood up, and looked around at his friends. “Ready, lads?” 

Mumbling in agreement, the bench scraped back as they stood. Verity smiled down at her plate, refusing to lift her head until they were completely out of sight.

Chandni gave her a knowing look, bumping her shoulder as she asked,

“I didn’t know you and Tadgh were so tight. When did that happen?”

Verity could feel the heat in her cheeks – she felt as though she was glowing, as she discreetly covered her face with her hands.

“We’re _not_ ‘tight’, he was just being friendly.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it nowadays?” Asked Sirius, with a smirk, as he waved a bit of sausage at her.

“I think Verity’s got a secret _boyfriend_.” Sung Marlene, as Verity flicked a pea across the table with her spoon.

“I have not, you hag, leave me alone!” She grumbled, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to take over the bottom half of her face.

“McCarthy and Wildey sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-“

“Stop it, James.”

“I-N-G! First comes love,”

“I’m warning you, stop it!” She whined, burying her face in her hands. It was no use – Sirius and Peter had taken it upon themselves to join in, and Marlene was conducting them with her wand.

“Then comes MARRIAGE, then comes the baby in the BABY CARRIAGE!”

“Hey guys…what did we miss?” Asked Francesca Fallow, as she plopped herself down on the opposite side of the table with a grin, followed by Dorcas Meadowes and Vera Thorne. Chandni snickered,

“Just bullying True about her new _boyfriend_.”

“He is _not_ my boyfriend.” She protested, groaning as she flung her head back for dramatic effect. This wasn’t the kind of information Verity wanted spread around. She was eleven, for goodness sake. What would she do with a boyfriend?

He _was_ very cute, though. His thick, jet black hair, large green eyes and the perfect smattering of freckles had her all googly-eyed across the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, much to the amusement of Russ Lockett and her friends. She didn’t think she’d been _that_ obvious. How embarrassing! Boys were gross, Verity thought, firmly – except Remus, of course. He was alright. He got a free pass, being her best friend, and all.

As the laughter settled, Franny shook her head, before leaning conspiratorially over the table. “So, what does everyone think about those rumours, eh?” She asked, with a wiggle of her thick, wheat-coloured brows. Her frizzy blonde hair bounced as she threw a glance over each shoulder. “Haunted house in Hogsmeade. Pretty creepy, right?”

“Yeah, some of the Gryffindor boys were just talking about that – it’s so weird. Do you think it’s going to happen again?”

“I hope not. The descriptions sound terrifying.” She replied, chasing a scoop on to her spoon. “It’s weird that it doesn’t happen every night, though.”

Remus stood, abruptly, his knife catching the front of his robes and clanging on his plate. When Verity looked at him, he gave her another forced smile.

“Just remembered - I’ve got homework to finish.”

“Oh! Well, wait a minute and I’ll come with you.” Said Verity, as she turned back to her plate.

“No, it’s alright. I think I’d rather study on my own this time, if that’s okay? I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Oh, okay.” Verity searched his face, but he gave nothing away. “We’ll see you at the party though, won’t we? Apparently the Gryffindors always put on a good show. They’re doing fireworks, too!”

“I’ll – I’ll see how I feel, okay?” He’d replied. He gave everyone a short wave, and left.

“What’s up with Remus?” Asked Dorcas, as she watched him retreat through the doors. She flicked her braids over her shoulder as she turned back towards the table.

“I don’t know. He did seem a little off though, didn’t he?”

“He’s been looking peaky since we met him at King's Cross, though.” Said Peter, “He always seems to be ill.”

“Hmm, I guess.” Carrying on their previous conversation, Verity said, “it is a bit odd, isn’t it? Surely if it was a haunting, it would have happened more than a couple of times?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.” Said Francesca, with a shrug.

“I’d love to see what was in there, though.” Said Dorcas, with a mischievous grin. “For research purposes, of course."

“Are you sure you’re not a Gryffindor, Cassie?” Joked Sirius, as the girl laughed.

“I think we’ve all got a bit of everything inside of us - but, I’m definitely a Ravenclaw.” Changing the subject, she added, “Have you seen that stupid game they’re playing with the Whomping Willow?”

“You’re only saying it’s stupid because you’re too much of a wimp to try it.” Quipped James, with a smirk.

“As I said, I’m a Ravenclaw. I’m not going to lose an eye to prove a point.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Meadowes - it’s all fun and games. Dumbledore wouldn’t have put it there if it was dangerous.”

“James – we go to school next to a forest full of dangerous magical creatures.”

“Ah. I see your point. Well, in any case, I’m going to be the one to do it first.”

“We’ll get your ‘Get Well Soon’ card written now, then, shall we?” Said Franny, with a giggle.

“No need – I’m like a cheetah. Quick on my feet, you know?” The girls laughed as he ducked and weaved, his hands formed in to claws.

“Anyway, we’ve got to run. The prefects have planned some activities for the first years – we’ve got pumpkin carving at eight.” Franny’s face shone with excitement, as she clung to Cassie’s arm. “Have fun, you guys!”

“See you tomorrow!” Called Verity, along with the other Gryffindors.

“So, did you guys manage to get your costumes?” Asked Verity, once the noise had returned to an appropriate level. The group had agreed to go as pirates this year, and loot as many sweets as possible.

“Yep.” Replied Sirius, with a grin. “I even nicked one of my dad’s old swords. He won’t notice – the only one who looks at them these days is Kreacher.” He scoffed, referring to his House Elf.

“Ooo, aren’t you fancy?” Teased Marlene, as he flipped her off. “My mum made my costume, she’s dead proud of it.”

“I just grabbed a few things from the dressing up box at home.” Said Chandni, with a shrug. “I can make it work, though.”

“So, I was thinking we should do a bit of trick-or-treating later.” James crossed his arms and leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. “Free sweets, exploring a spooky castle at night – can’t get more Halloween-y than that.”

“What’s trick-or-treating?” Asked Peter. Sirius looked equally confused.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“No?”

“Oh – OH! You poor, deprived boys.” He cried, as he clutched Peter’s head to his chest. “It is the single, most _wonderful_ time of the year, when you can badger people for sweets and _they give them to you_ – for _free_. Did your parents really never take you? Verity and I go every year.” He added, for good measure.

“No. I wish I had now, though, that sounds ruddy brilliant!”

“I’ve never been, either.” Said Sirius, with an odd expression on his face. He seemed rather conflicted. “My parents are a bit funny about those kinds of things. We used to read ghost stories in the study instead, and help Kreacher carve the lanterns.”

“That does sound fun, though.” Said Verity, with a reassuring grin. “In any case, there’s a first time for everything, and we have the honour of escorting you on your very first trip.”

“The honour, eh?” Said Sirius, with a genuine smile.

“One that we shall take most seriously.”

***

The party was in full swing. Verity sat squashed on to one of the sofas in between Marlene and Chandni, as Sirius sat draped across them with a glass of pumpkin juice in hand. He wore a red and white striped bandana over his hair, and had scribbled on a twirly moustache. 

A wizarding radio was blasting Cher’s Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves at full volume, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett were swing-dancing with Patricia Rakepick and a group of third years in the middle of the common room. Their cackles and whoops of joy coloured the air, as the crowd clapped to the beat.

Someone had hung cobwebs over the portraits and windows, and transfigured glittering spiders to sit atop them. Carved pumpkins stood like sentinels on the window sills, and candles hung in the air – replicating the Great Hall. Someone had bewitched a skeleton to jump out on unsuspecting girls as they left the staircase, and Verity had almost cleared it up with a frightened punch.

“Right, crew,” Said James, with a clap of his hands. “Are we ready to take this ship for a sail?”

“Er, who died and made you captain?” Asked Lily, her white shirt billowing as she folded her arms, with a wicked grin on her face. Her eye patch made her look all the more menacing.

“Why? Are you going to fight me for it, Evans?” He asked, brandishing his wooden cutlass. She chuckled, prodding him in the chest with her own.

“You know you’d lose, Potter.” He grabbed his heart, head lolling to one side with added sound effects.

“You wound me, Lillers.”

“Anyway,” She said, pointedly turning away from him. Verity grinned – perhaps she didn’t dislike him as much as she let on. “Are we going, or what?”

Verity scanned her eyes across the room, checking for prefects – Mallory was in the corner with her friends, a torch held up to her face, casting an eerie shadow. Roger, however, was eating sweets with his friends that had some surprising effects – a girl with a green face and a wart on the end of her nose giggled with glee, as she watched Roger’s canines grow long and sharp like a vampire. He pulled his cape sinisterly over his face, emitting a villainous laughter.

“Keep a look out, I’m going to grab Remus.”

And she was off up the stairs before her friends could protest.

***

“Reems?” She asked, as she knocked on his bedroom door. “It’s Verity, can I come in?”

“I guess so.”

As she walked in, she stifled a giggle. Hope had really gone to town – his shirt even had _ruffles_.

“I look ridiculous.” He said, fingering the lacy cuffs. Verity crossed the room and straightened his hat, joining him at the mirror.

“Not at all, I think you look great – very authentic.” She said, with a hint of mirth in her tone.

“You can’t even keep a straight face, can you?” He sounded exasperated, as he went to pull off his hat. Verity stopped him with a gentle hand, and a gentler smile.

“It’s Halloween, Remus – we’re all meant to look a bit silly. Here, where’s that camera of yours?” She asked, taking a look around the room. Remus raised his eyebrow, and moved to his trunk – from within, he produced an old, hefty camera. Verity held out her hand, and he passed it to her with a questioning look.

“Come here.” She ordered, with a grin. Putting her arm around his waist, she yanked him closer. “Say cheese!” 

“Cheese?” Remus’s grin looked rather feeble next to Verity’s, as she snapped a shot of the two of them. Satisfied, she handed it back to him. 

“You’ll look back on that in a few years and laugh – promise.” Heading for the door, she said, “James and the others are waiting – we’re all going trick-or-treating now, so get a wiggle on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

“Crew, to starboard!” Yelled James, as a particularly large group of Hufflepuffs marched towards them. Their sweet baskets were over-flowing. The Gryffindors moved as one, allowing them to pass.

“First Mate Blackbeard, what’s next on our agenda?”

“I’m sorry to report, Captain Potts, that I think our pirating days are over. We seem to have plundered every available harbour.” He said, perusing their very crude map of the castle. Peter and the others had drawn it up while waiting for Verity and Remus to re-appear, detailing all the teachers offices and what floors they were on. 

“Ah, that won’t do. The night is still young!”

“Well, I want to head back soon – the fireworks will be starting, and I don’t want to miss them.” Said Lily, with a sniff.

“Do you know what would be really good?” Asked Sirius, slinging his arms over James and Marlene's shoulders. He was careful not to attract the attention of the Bloody Baron – Slytherin’s resident ghost – as he glided past with an ominous clank of his chains. “We should sneak up to the Astronomy Tower. We’d be able to see the whole thing from up there.” His tone was casual, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Ooo, that sounds like a great idea!” Said Marlene, “I’m definitely up for that.”

“We’ve only got ten minutes until curfew.” Said Chandni, as she threw a longing look down the corridor. “But…I do _really_ want to see the fireworks.”

“So, it’s settled, then?” Said Sirius, with his hands on his hips. “To Astronomy Bay. Raise anchor!” He cried, throwing his sword in the air. 

The children followed suit, giggling as they took off down the corridor.

***

As they climbed the stairs of the tower, they were in total silence. Even their breathing was muted, as they picked their way through the gloom. Pushing open the door with a bang, Peter winced. He was met with scowls, before he stuck his head inside.

“All clear.” He whispered, and shuffled out of sight. 

Doing one, last scan of the steps below, Remus chuckled as Verity stumbled over her own feet. She stuck out her tongue as she made her way over to the low stone wall, and stared out in to the dark. Chandni, Marlene and Lily were having an animated conversation next to her, their susurrations amplified by the acoustics of the rounded room, as Sirius showed off his sword skills – of which, he was sorely lacking.

Remus ambled up to her, hat in hands. Leaning his forearms on the wall, it hung in the darkness – the gold feather wafting gently in the breeze.

“Ahoy there.” 

“Ahoy there, matey.” Replied Verity, with a chuckle. “Having fun?”

Remus pretended to ponder that thought. “Hmm, possibly.”

“Come off it, you’ve got a whole bucket of free chocolate. This is your dream come true, isn’t it?” She teased, and he grinned in to the night.

“Okay, you got me - the trick-or-treating was a stroke of genius. Maybe we should listen to James more often.” He let Verity’s laughter wash over him, before his voice dropped to a murmur, “This is the first Halloween I’ve celebrated with…friends. It’s been really good. Thanks – you know, for giving me a nudge earlier.” He was fiddling with the rim of his tricorn hat, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s alright, honestly – and, I still think you look very dashing.” She said the last part in mock earnest, and he turned to her with a serious expression.

“If there was a competition for most majestic feather, I would surely win it.” 

Verity giggled, as he placed the hat jauntily on his head.

“Of that, I am quite sure.” 

A loud crack reverberated through the sky behind them – Remus and Verity turned around to see a mighty blue Eagle swoop just over their heads, trailing blue and copper sparks through the night sky. To her left, there was a slithering emerald serpent, with a silver tongue that twinkled like stars. Hufflepuff’s mighty golden badger, and Gryffindor’s scarlet lion joined the other two houses as one, and exploded in a fountain of colour. The children gasped, as a rainbow of sparkles rained down over the quad, skittering across the cobbled floor.

Rockets fizzed and banged in the air, like thunder cracks on a stormy night. Verity’s eyes were lit up like neon signs, as Remus turned to face her. She had her Gryffindor scarf pulled right up to her nose, clashing horribly with her costume. Her hair was back combed to the brink of breakage, and she had a crudely drawn scar on her cheek that was smudged beyond repair.

She gasped, as a shower of purple and green rained down on them from an enchanted cauldron, before she caught him staring.

“Do I look completely ridiculous?” She asked, with a giggle. Her fingers went up to her hair, as she made to pat it down.

“Maybe a bit.” He said, giving her the side-eye with a cheeky grin. As a glittering dragon flew across the sky, blasting flames of crimson and gold, he said. “I think we should do this every year.”

“What, like a tradition?”

“Exactly. I want to do this every year – same place, same people.” He looked around at their friends, and smiled. 

James and Sirius were sat on the wall surrounding the tower – much to the horror of Lily, who was trying to barter with them to come down. Sirius was out-right ignoring her, back turned and mesmerised by the lights, while James kept pretending to wobble. Lily looked positively mutinous. Marlene, Chandni and Peter were huddled together, discussing the lights in low whispers and loud gasps. As Verity caught Remus’ eye, she smiled back at him.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Hope everyone's having a wonderful week, so far.
> 
> Sorry this is so _incredibly long_ 😅it's all leading somewhere, though - promise!
> 
> As usual, feedback is welcome and appreciated! 🥰
> 
> Stay safe out there!
> 
> L♥ xx


	13. Bumps in the Night

Verity could feel the warmth of the cosy kitchen hug at her skin. John and Fenella sat at the table, deep in conversation. She could see them laughing, but it was as though Verity’s ears were full of water – their voices muffled and distant. They didn’t seem to notice her, continuing on without giving her a second glance.

It was late. Nothing could be seen through the windows, with the exception of the wisteria that tapped shyly against the glass. Verity wondered why her father was here, at such an hour. Shouldn’t he have left by now? It was getting a bit dark, to find his way back to his car. There was a niggling feeling, that Verity could not place. She felt like she was missing something.

CRACK! Verity’s head whipped round, as a sound cut through the ambient noise.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The wail of the intruder alarm sent a prickling down her limbs and she gasped, soundlessly. A jolt of confusion daggered through her, as she came face to face with something she did not expect at all.

She came face to face with herself. 

Pyjamas rumpled, brown hair over her face, and a look of fearful apprehension. Her wand shivered in her out-stretched hand, as she said something unintelligible to her parents. Fenella shot out of her seat, wand raised, as a brilliant white light shone through the windows. 

Her mother’s look of horror was the last thing she saw, before she was brought back to reality with firm shake.

The lights from the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom were blinding. Verity rubbed her eyes, wincing as she let her head fall forwards with a groan. Russell knelt in front of her desk. Lines had formed in the space between his brows, pulled deep in to his bridge. She could hear the hum of the class, some voices louder than others, as they gossiped amongst themselves. As they gossiped about _her_.

Chandni gripped Verity tightly by the hand, with her arm around her shoulder. She could feel the panic seeping through her clothes and in to her skin. Marlene and Lily shielded her from the rest of the Gryffindors, their backs turned as they shared a look of bewildered concern. The scrape of a chair sounded, before James appeared at her side. He shouldered past Lily, who made a squeak of protest.

“Is she alright, Professor?” He asked. There was no hint of laughter this time, as he ran his hand through his untameable hair.

Russell took a moment to answer, shooting James a quick smile. “Just to be on the safe side – could you and Miss Noor take Verity to the Hospital Wing for some Pepper Up?” He leant in towards her, and murmured, “I’d like you to swing by and see me after dinner. I will be extending the invitation to Professor McGonagall and Peggy, too.” 

She gave him a shaky nod, and tottered out of the classroom, with two bemused friends hot on her heels. As the door closed behind them, the classroom erupted in hisses of curiosity, silenced almost immediately by a bark from their usually-patient Professor.

“I wonder what that was all about?” Whispered James. His playful tone had an edge to it – he couldn’t bring himself to make a joke. Not yet, at least. Not until he knew she was alright. 

“I’ve never seen her have an episode during the day before.” Muttered Chandni, her footsteps falling in time with his.

“You mean, this isn’t the first time this has happened?”

“No…she has quite bad nightmares sometimes. She’s mentioned having weird dreams before, but never said what they were about. We didn’t want to push her, you know? She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

“That sounds just like Remus. I can’t wait until we learn how to use a silencing charm – the boys and I even contemplated going to the library.”

Chandni snickered, “Oh, well, it must be really serious then. You lot wouldn’t be caught dead in there.”

“Exactly. I wonder if they’re connected?" Chandni cast him a puzzled look. "I mean, they spend so much time together, maybe they’re just…becoming one person?” James broke in to a smirk, as Verity called over her shoulder,

“I can hear you, you know? I’m weird, not deaf.”

Trotting to catch up with her, he said, “Sorry, Vez, but you and Lupin are joint at the hip - it was only a matter of time.”

“You’ve cracked the code, Potty – we’re melding in to one magical mega force, and taking over Honeydukes. It’ll be our headquarters for the battle against _toads_ like you.” James scoffed, and Chandni snorted, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her robe as Verity rapped on the door of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey appeared, taking in her dishevelled appearance and two giggling friends with a look of pure impatience.

“Yes?” She asked, tersely.

“I, erm, fainted in class.” Chandni tutted at her, trying to catch her eye. Ignoring this, Verity pressed on. “Russ – err, I mean Professor Lockett, sent me up here for some Pepper Up and some rest.” 

Looking her up and down, the nurse gave a short nod. “Follow me, dear - we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

As James and Chandni made to follow her through the doors, Madame Pomfrey held up her hand.

“I take it neither of you are sick?”

“No?”

“Best be off to class, then. I assure you, Miss Wilde is perfectly safe in my care.”

The two students left, grumbling protests down the hall, as the nurse bustled after her new patient. Verity had stopped, noting the drawn curtains at the end of the row. From behind them, she heard a low groan, before she was gently guided by the arm to the nearest available bed.

Her thoughts turned to what had happened, and how on earth she was going to explain it. Not only that, but how was she going to ever face her classmates again? They must think she’s as mad as a box of Chocolate Frogs.

***

Once she had been released, Verity had spent the rest of the day curled up in front of the Gryffindor fire. Her homework lay forgotten on the low-lying table that was just out of reach. She dutifully filled in her dream journal, trying desperately to place things in order. She figured this new part of the dream must come first – but, what if they weren’t connected at all? What if they were all completely separate events? What if they meant nothing at all, except that she was stressed and homesick? Frustrated, she threw down her quill, just as the portrait door swung open.

“Trudy!” Peter Pettigrew’s voice hollered across the Common Room, as her friends piled in around her. “Thank Merlin, we thought you’d been carted off to St Mungo’s!”

“How’re you feeling, mate? You alright?” Asked James, choosing to ignore Peter’s lack of tact.

“Clearly she’s not alright, James.” Fussed Lily, as she squashed on to the armchair, wrapping her arms around her. She was followed by Marlene, who perched precariously on the arm. Sirius dithered with his bag in hand. He looked deep in thought, not quite meeting Verity’s eye as she glanced up from her diary.

“I’m fine. Pomf is an absolute wizard with that tonic stuff, sorted me right out.” 

“Look, I hate to agree with Evans, but you’re not ‘fine’, are you?” James chose his words carefully - his hand reaching, once again, for his hair. “People who are ‘fine’ don’t have screaming fits in class, especially not over Imps. They’re not even scary.”

Verity’s heart squeezed, as a wave of humiliation washed over her. That’s what everyone would think, isn’t it? That she’d had a nightmare about nature’s smallest pranksters. What a joke.

Snapping her journal shut, she met James’ gaze – two sets of hazel eyes, one soft, and one full of embarrassment. 

“I am _fine_. Really, I just want to forget about it.”

“Alright. Alright, if you say so. At least talk to your mum about it, yeah?”

“Jamie - drop it, will you?” Her eyes snapped shut, as the girls from Dorm 3 passed by - they whispered in to their hands, their eyes darting in her direction. James shot them a scowl, fingering at his wand in his pocket.

“I will drop it – for now, but only because Peter and I have a party to plan. Marls, you coming?” Marlene gave Verity’s shoulder a squeeze, as she hopped off of her seat.

“You know where to find us when you’re ready, True.” She said, before following James and Peter up the staircase.

Lily hugged her tight, before letting go, and extricating herself from the depths of the squashy cushions with help from Chandni.

“We’re heading to the library to meet Sev – we’ve got that potions essay due tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

“Please?” Begged Chandni, as Lily shoved her shoulder. Sev was not everyone’s cup of tea.

“No. No, I’m alright. You guys go on ahead, I’ve got to get ready to go and meet Russell.” 

“Okay.” Conceded Lily, “Well, if you want to join us, you know where we are.”

“James, Lily and I have notes for you and Reems, True. Let me know when you need them!” Called Chandni, before the two girls disappeared from view.

Then, there were two. The boy shifted from foot to foot, fighting a silent battle. With a sigh, he fell on to the sofa across from her.

“Mind if I sit here?” Verity shook her head. Sirius Black’s serious tone was a stark contrast from the loud-mouthed rebel she was used to, and it shocked her. He paused for a moment, before lowering his voice further. “Is…is everything alright at home?”

“I – yes, everything’s okay. It’s just silly dreams, I’m sure they’ll go away soon.” Secretly, Verity doubted that very much. “How about you, Sirius?”

Just like that, he was a little boy again. Scared. Confused. Ashamed. The emotions that flitted across his face spoke a thousand words. Then, it became unreadable, as he pulled a chessboard out from underneath the table. 

“Same old, same old – absent father, batty mother. It’s Reg I feel sorry for, really.” He began to set up the pieces, slowly. “Look - if you ever need to chat about these night terrors, I’m here. For you, and for Remus. I’m going to talk to him when he gets back from the funeral. Nobody should have to go through something like that alone.”

“Thanks, Sirius. That really means a lot, you know? I hope you know you can talk to me, too.” He gave her a brief smile as he nodded, gesturing to the game.

“What colour do you want?”

“Black.”

“Oh, come on - they literally have my name on, and it’s my _birthday_.”

“You shouldn’t have let me choose, then, should you? I hope you’re not a sore loser, birthday boy.”

***

Professor McGonagall’s office was welcoming and neat, the dark cherry wood off-setting the Gryffindor flags and souvenirs dotted about the room perfectly. The witch sat behind her desk, fingers steepled together as she surveyed Verity through her half-moon spectacles.

“Tell us what happened, Miss Wilde.”

Verity fiddled with her sleeve, not meeting the eyes of the three people in front of her. Russell leant against the wall, arms folded, watching. 

“I can’t remember.”

Peggy scoffed, as she carried a full tray in her spindly arms. Bangles clanked, metal on metal, as tea swished over the side of the cups.

“Don’t be silly, True – you can tell Russ and Minerva about the dreams you’ve been having, no need to be shy.”

“Dreams?” Asked McGonagall, sceptically.

“Oh aye - our Verity’s been having some very strange dreams indeed.”

“Well, a sleeping draught can cure that. One might also prescribe a few early nights, and not gallivanting about the castle at all hours with her friends.” In spite of herself, Verity smirked. Maybe they weren’t as stealthy as they thought they were.

“This didn’t look like lack of sleep to me.” Murmured Russ, as he pushed himself off the wall. Ambling over to Verity, he dropped on to the sofa beside her. “We can’t help you if you won’t talk to us, love. This has been happening for a while, now - Peggy’s been keeping me up to date.” He sighed, as Verity shrugged. “Right, I know you’re embarrassed, but this is a really good chance to ask for help. Peg and your mum are really worried.”

“Mum knows about this?”

“I’m sorry, darling. She had to be informed.” The girl scowled at her aunt, as she sipped on her lavender brew. She felt herself grow hot under the collar, and reminded herself not to tell her traitorous Aunt anything else in confidence.

“They’re just stupid dreams – they don’t _mean_ anything.”

“That may be so,” said McGonagall, taking a softer tone, “but perhaps we should be the judge of that. Tell us as much as you remember, Miss Wilde.”

“Well – it all started when we had that incident over the summer.” She looked pointedly at Russ, who nodded.

“The mole, Minerva.”

“Ah. She knows?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Apparently, there would be no further elaboration.

“Carry on, Vez.”

“Since then, I’ve been having recurring dreams. Well, not recurring exactly – it’s never the same dream twice, but they all seem to…link? I don’t know.”

“Who are these dreams about?”

“My mum and dad…and me. This time, they were sat in the kitchen. There was…an explosion of some sort. Bright, white light.”

“Verity has always had intuitive dreams, Minerva. Ever since she was a wee bairn. I would guess that these visions make up part of a larger picture.”

“Thank you, Peggy.” McGonagall eyed her for a moment, her lack of faith in Divination and all of its facets quite apparent. “In these dreams, what do you see? What has you so frightened?”

“It’s just snippets, really. It’s more, err, the feeling of them, than anything else.” She shuddered, as she remembered the manic, squealing laughter intertwined with harrowing screams. “Usually I’m myself – in my own body, but today…I was, like… like an outsider, looking in. I…I saw myself.” Verity took a steadying breath, her eyes downcast. “I looked…I looked terrified. I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, but I know I said something to my parents just before…”

“Before I managed to wake you?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything that seems particularly important?”

“It-it always takes place at home? In the forest? There are…there are people hiding in the trees.” Verity’s voice was soft, as she ducked behind a sheet of hair. Her head was pounding – she wished she could be of more help, but her thoughts were swirling like water down a drain, and she just could not focus. She thought of her dream journal, discarded upon her night stand, and wished she had the forethought to bring it along.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, breaking her silence. “It could be that these dreams are innocent in nature, albeit daunting - but your Aunt and Professor Lockett are not convinced. I shall inform Professor Dumbledore. In the mean-time, I can ask Professor Slughorn to whip up a calming remedy, to ease your nerves?”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“I can teach you a few defensive spells after class if you like, Vez?” 

“What good will that do? I’m only a child. I can’t protect anybody.” Russell gave her a warm smile, offering her his hand to pull her up from the couch. 

“Nonsense - you are perfectly capable. It might make you feel better, if you know you can defend yourself.”

As Verity left the office, the feeling of uncertainty burrowed deeper. Why was this happening to her? She remembered what her aunt had said, and pondered on it for a moment. Peg was right, Verity had always had strange dreams – but never sinister in nature. Usually, she would dream about who was going to win the Quidditch world cup, or who would be her lab partner in science. The creep of foreboding shivered down her spine, dogging her footsteps and her thoughts, as she clambered up the stairs.

***

Sirius’ party was in full swing, as she stepped in to the kitchens. A decadent, red velvet birthday cake stood in the middle of the table, with six slices missing. A little pile of presents sat at the end, their various bows and ribbons glittering in the candle light. Moppet darted from one oven to the next, wittering to himself, as Bucket fiddled with what looked like an old muggle radio. With a click of her fingers, it whirred in to action, and began to play.

“…roll, I can't stand still,  
Got a flamin' heart can't get my fill!  
With eyes that shine, burnin' red,  
Dreams of you all through my head…”

Sirius looked as though he’d been struck by lightning, leaping out of his seat. His grey eyes were alight with reverence, as he swung his shaggy black hair and his hips to the beat.

“Who’s this?” He yelled, “They’re brilliant!”

“Led Zeppelin!” Replied Verity, as she dumped his present on the table. “Muggle band - my dad loves them.”

“Your dad has marvellous taste, Vez.” He said, as she joined him. 

James grinned, hopping on to the table and offering Verity and Sirius his hands. Him and Vez stood back to back, before busting out some air-guitar. Throwing their heads about, they giggled wildly, stumbling as Marlene threw herself in to the mix. 

“Watch it!” Squealed Verity.

“Sorry! It’s the music, it does things to me.” Her blonde hair bounced to the beat, as she shimmied across the old oak tabletop, her delicate laughter lost in Robert Plant’s growling vocals.

Sirius caught on quite quickly, his nimble fingers forming shapes within a matter of moments. They felt like rock Gods, and looked like idiots (which Lily had no trouble pointing out.) The House Elves retreated to the quiet sanctity of their quarters, as the raucous music echoed through the expanse.

Peter was tapping his toe to the beat, his buck teeth exposed by his wide smile. He had been brought up on a steady diet of classical music (for wizards, of course), and had not realised music could be so… _fun_. With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, Lily grabbed Chandni and Peter by the hands, and dragged them up on to the table with her. 

As James slid along the table on his knees, strumming the air next to his hip, Verity snapped a picture of him on Remus’ camera. He stopped a few inches short of the cake, hopping to his feet and back along the table, playing his thigh like it had six strings. Lily watched him with a grin on her face, her cheeks lightly flushed. Noticing Verity’s stare, the colour bloomed, and she giggled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fall off the table, Potter, what with the weight of your fat head.”

“Now, now – it’s Sirius’ birthday, Evans. Let’s keep things civil. Besides, you’re one to talk – being such a know-it-all, your head must be twice as heavy as mine – at least.”

With a gasp, she grabbed a bit of cake, and threw it at him. It slapped him square in the forehead, before plopping on to the table in front, leaving a dark trail in its wake.

“Oh. _Oh_. You’ll wish you hadn’t done that, Lillers.” Snatching some black icing, he ran down the table towards her as she screamed – riddled with that feet-stomping, hand-flapping fear and excitement, as she tried to figure out how to get away. Before she could hop on to the bench, he had smushed it in to her beautiful red hair. 

He shrugged his shoulders, arms out and palms up with a shit-eating grin as she shrieked, and tried to get past him. He blocked her at every turn, laughing as her face grew more and more red. “We’re even now, Evans, let’s just call it a day, eh?” 

As they turned to face her, Verity took another snap – Lily Evans and James Potter, scowling playfully at each other, covered in cake.

The radio was warbling something far more demure now – she was pretty sure it was a new track from The Doors. Derek had been banging on about them over the holidays, and they were actually rather good. They took their seats at the table, James passing Lily a napkin, which she snatched from him with a growled “Thanks”. Sirius began to open his presents, his smile growing as paper went flying over his shoulders, creating a pile of destruction around him.

He had a bag of Bertie Botts from Peter, and a small box of wet-start, no heat fireworks from Marlene.

“I thought they might be useful for pranks.” She said, with a grin.

Lily and Chandni had pitched in together, to get him a luxury pack of exploding snap, and Verity had bought him a few Batman comics. In all honesty, she hadn’t really been sure what to get him, but figured superheroes were a safe bet. Plus, he reminded her of Sirius, in that brooding, vigilante billionaire kind of way.

James had bought him the radio, and had Fleamont tweak it to play both muggle and wizarding channels. This seemed to be Sirius’ favourite present, as he bopped his head to the beat.

As Verity handed over Remus’ gift (which he had left, along with the camera under her protection) she grinned.

“I’m ninety nine percent sure this is chocolate, Siri.”

“Don’t spoil the surprise, Vez. You never know, Lupin may have done something entirely out of character.”

They all shared a laugh at his expense when the gift was, in fact, a giant bar of Honeydukes crackle and pop chocolate.

“Oi, everyone, say cheese!” Complete with various gang signs and hand signals, Verity took a group shot. 

Sirius wore his birthday crown, his grin reaching his ears, as he stood in the middle of all his new friends. Marlene and James had their arms around him, pulling hideous faces (Marlene with her nose like a pig’s snout, and James as cross-eyed as he could make himself, tongue lolling to one side.) Chandni, Lily and Peter were behind, throwing peace signs and making bunny ears above James’ head (well, they looked more like Moose antlers, but she commended Peter for trying.) Verity stood, front and centre, thumb jabbed over her shoulder with the laughter still captured on her face.

They continued to chatter late in to the night, playing round after round of snap, and the muggle game Charades, until Sirius felt like he had won _enough_ times for it to be fair. He was the birthday boy, after all.

***

They quite forgot themselves, as their footsteps slapped down the hallway, giggling between themselves. It wasn’t until they were face to face with Professor McGonagall, hair in curlers and her tartan dressing gown knotted tightly around her waist, that they realised how loud they had been.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Like deer in the headlights, they froze. Taking a tentative step forwards, Sirius bowed his head.

“It’s my fault, Professor. I dragged them all out here to celebrate.”

“Rubbish.” Said James, stepping forwards. “It was me – I wanted Sirius to have a good birthday.”

“I think you’ll find, Miss, that it’s actually my fault.” Nobody was more shocked than James, as Lily stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Er, no, actually, it’s my fault! I lost my slipper, so I asked everyone to help me look for it.”

“Your slipper is on your foot, Miss McKinnon.”

“Yes, well, we’ve just found it.”

“It’s alright, Marley.” Said Verity, stepping in to line. “You don’t have to lie for me. It’s my fault – I couldn’t sleep, so –“

“Don’t, True – it’s actually _my_ fault.” Said Chandni, with an apologetic grin. “I planned Sirius’ party, and took Marlene’s slipper so we’d all have to go out and look for it. Don’t blame them.”

Whether Peter was going to join in or not, they never had the chance to find out, as Professor McGonagall fought to hide a smile.

“Is it really your birthday, Black?”

“Yes, Professor.”

She was silent for a beat, before,

“Five points from each of you, and detention tomorrow night. You’ll be helping Professor Kettleburn to bed-down the nifflers.”

Verity supressed her joy, as their teacher fixed them all with a glare. One that Verity found very hard to believe.

“Thank you, Professor – sorry.”

“Run along now. It’s too late to be wandering around like this.”

And she was off, in a whirl of green tartan and wobbling light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hi hello, it's me - your friendly neighbourhood fic author, back to bring you yet another instalment of the Lion Hearts series 🥰
> 
> How's everyone's bank holiday weekend been? I hope you've all had a magical time.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, and I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated 🥳
> 
> L♥ xx


	14. Curiouser and Curiouser

Friday morning was full of surprises. James, Sirius and Peter let out a collective groan, as they realised that the Galleons they had nicked from the Niffler enclosure were Leprechaun gold, and had already disappeared from the pockets of their robes.

Verity, Lily and Chandni discussed the Daily Prophet over scrambled eggs and juice. Two home invasions this week alone – Dark Marks tainting the front of Chandni’s cloak a sickly, rippling green. Verity’s heart sank, as she looked up from the paper and saw a Hufflepuff boy and his two older siblings being lead from the Great Hall in tears. 

A Ministry worker from the Department of Magical Beings, and their family, had been attacked on the street in Westminster. Verity craned her neck to see over their shoulders, desperately pleading that her Aunt and Uncle’s faces wouldn’t be staring back at her. Thankfully, they were not. As Marlene began to tear open her care package from home, a familiar head bobbed and weaved its way through swathes of children.

“Remus! You’re b- _oh_!” Peter gasped, shooting Verity a worried look. As the boy lifted his head, they were met with a swollen black eye and a face full of barely-healed cuts.

“I thought he was at a funeral?” Murmured Chandni, scooting down the bench to make room. With a shrug of her shoulders, Verity turned her attention back to her friend.

“Hey,” She said, softly, “What happened? Are you alright?”

"Yeah, Remus - looking a little beaten up there, mate." Said James, his eyebrows raised in shock.

“Nothing. I mean - I, um, fell down the stairs. Looks a lot worse than it is, though.” He winced through a painful smile and a sideways glance, pulling his sleeve down over his wrist. James and Sirius shared a look, as James began wordlessly piling Remus’ plate with food. He filled up the battered boy’s glass with ice cold pumpkin juice, before going back to his own breakfast without a word.

“Sure. Sure, okay.” Verity nodded. Under the table, she reached for his hand, clasping his fingers in her own.

***

_‘From lighting a warm hearth to igniting a Christmas pudding, the Fire-Making Spell is always useful around the wizarding household. However, the ability to produce fire with the flick of a wand can be dangerous to your fellow students (and worse, your books)…’_

Professor Flitwick tottered between the long desks, smiling approvingly at Lily and Dorcas. The class were studying the Incendio charm today, and had been reading Miranda Goshawk’s ‘Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1’ in silence. The quiet was interrupted by a shriek, emitted from where Peter Pettigrew was sat - shortly followed by the belly-aching laughter and the slap of a high five, belonging to none other than James Potter and Sirius Black.

Peter fanned vigorously at his desk with his textbook, toppling out of his chair as he tried to get a good angle. Fire was spreading across the tabletop – parchment black and curling in its wake, and the smell of smoke clogging the air. Remus was hastily moving his and Peter's belongings, mumbling curses under his breath. Rolling his eyes to the heavens, Professor Flitwick muttered ‘Finite’ as he scurried towards them. Heaving Peter to his feet, he scowled down his long, pointed nose.

“Fifteen points from Gryffindor. We are reading about the Incendio charm today, Mr Pettigrew, _not_ attempting it. It would bode well for you to listen to me in future - not your friends.”

Vera Thorne practically had to stuff her cloak in her mouth, as Peter stomped back to his desk. He threw a rude gesture to James and Sirius, who grinned like Peeves in return. The three Ravenclaw girls they were sat with stifled their giggles, as Lily cast a look of intense displeasure towards their idiot friends.

“Are they always like this?” Asked Vera, as Sirius floated Peter’s cloak over his face. The boy tried to wrench it off, but only became more entangled. Remus helped him out of his predicament, while James' shoulders shook soundlessly with feverish laughter.

“Unfortunately.” Said Lily, channelling Severus more than anyone would dare to admit.

“Oh, come on, they _are_ pretty funny.” Giggled Franny, as James looked over with a smirk. He gave them all a salute, before turning back to his book. Like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Try living with him.” Muttered Lily, but a smile pinched at her cheeks, as she ran her finger down the text. “Stupidity comes in all shapes and sizes, but I hadn’t expected so much of it to be packed in to one dorm room.”

“It’s Remus I feel sorry for.” Said Marlene, with a cheeky grin. “He’s so sensible, yet surrounded by all these clowns.”

“We can hear you, you know?” Said Sirius, throwing down his quill in mock offence. Remus mouthed a 'thank you' across the room, much to the amusement of the girls.

“Well, they’re quite right, aren’t they? Get back to work, Mister Black.” Professor Flitwick’s eyes twinkled, as he busied himself with the stack of fifth year papers in front of him.

Giggling ensued, as Sirius’ mouth formed an ‘o’. Surreptitiously flipping their vertically-challenged teacher the bird, he dived back in to his textbook, muttering about ‘inequality.’

“So,” asked Dorcas, “Did you hear what Davey Whatsisface said about the Willow?”

“No? Davey who?” Said Chandni, ripping her eyes away from Kingsley Shacklebolt. She wouldn’t admit it, but the girls were fairly sure she was crushing hard. 

“Davey…you know, the one in your house.”

“Thanks, Dorcas, that was helpful.” Snorted Verity. “Do you mean Davey Gudgeon?”

“That’s the one – he thinks he’s seen a hidden entrance.”

“What? That’s a load of dung, we would have all seen it by now!” Interjected Marlene, cringing as she earned a withering look from Flitwick.

“Not necessarily.” Whispered Dorcas, shooting a furtive glance at her Head of House. “– jumping around, trying to avoid the branches, full of adrenaline, not exactly _looking_ for something like that? I can see how we may have missed it.”

“I hope no one is planning on finding out what's in there.” Lily’s accusatory tone did nothing to quell the curiosity of her friends, as she found out when she looked up from her book. “Oh – wipe those smirks off your faces, you lot, that’s practically a suicide mission.”

“Pssh, don’t be dramatic Lils, we’ll be careful.”

“It would be really fun to figure out how to get past it.” Said Vera, her timid tone almost lost under the sound of the bell and the scraping of chairs, as their Charms class came to an end.

“This has all the markers of an excellent adventure. Don't tell Potty or Black, though, yeah? I want to see the look on their faces when they realise we went on a mission without them.” Said Verity, grinning as she snapped her satchel shut.

***

As Verity added the last ingredient to the Forgetfulness Potion, a ball of parchment thwacked her in the back of the head. Shaking herself off, she began to stir anti-clockwise with her wand. One, two, three, four…

“Bugger!” She growled, as Chandni reached for a spoon to scoop out the sopping projectile. Scowling, she glanced over her shoulder at Soren, who began to flail silently in her chair. Her Slytherin lackeys pulled faces and sniggered behind Slughorn’s back. Word had spread fast around the school, and Verity had become this week’s butt of the joke. The girl who was afraid of Imps.

With a hiss and a shriek, Soren’s cauldron exploded. Every Slytherin within a two metre radius was covered in thick, crackling goop. Some began to drool, and others flopped to the floor, banging their fists against it as they wailed. Esme Flint had her finger firmly shoved up her nose, babbling quietly to herself – her thick, wavy hair the colour and consistency of tar.

Verity snuck a look over her shoulder, to see a very perplexed James and Sirius…and a positively angelic Remus. He was packing away his and Peter’s cauldron, with their potion capped and ready to be handed in, with no reaction whatsoever…except for the faintest smile.

“Settle down, class, settle down. No need to panic! Leave your potions on the desk. Remember – a roll of parchment on Forgetfulness Potion, and its pro’s and con’s – this would be a wonderful example to use, eh? Run along, now. Enjoy your lunch!”

As Slughorn began to see to their less fortunate classmates, Verity sidled over to Remus’ desk. She caught his good eye, as he snapped his briefcase shut.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “No need to thank me, it’s not my fault Soren is terrible at Potions.”

“Yeah, sure.” As he reached for his quill, the sleeve of his shirt pulled back, exposing a vivid bite mark on his wrist – he looked as though he had been savaged by a dog. Verity gasped, drawing the attention of the few students who were not exposed to the blast. “Remus! What’s this?”

Panic tightened his jaw, as he snatched his arm back and hastily covered it. Shoving his hands firmly in to his pockets, he averted his gaze.

“I told you, I fell down the stairs.”

“Did the steps have _teeth_?”

“Lower your voice.” He growled. Around them, an awkward tension hung in the air as their friends waited to leave. Severus and Lily hung by the door with Cindy and Emmeline, their interest piqued. The boy’s dark eyes darted between the pair, and then to Remus’ wrist, his thick brows furrowed in thought. James cleared his throat and stepped forwards, as Remus spun around. His cheeks were hot, as he pushed in his chair with a thump. “I’m going to get a head start on our Charms essay – see you all later.”

He scurried from the classroom without a second glance. Verity stood, mouth agape, staring at the stone doorway - as if willing her friend to come back and explain.

“Don’t sweat it, Wildey, he’ll come around. Probably feeling a little sore – I would, too, if I’d joined a secret fight club.” Said James, with a comforting wink.

“What’s eating Lupin?” Asked Sirius, as they walked towards the Great Hall.

“I don’t know.” Answered Verity, truthfully. 

She thought again of the red, puckered wounds raised above his skin – if not a dog bite, then what? What wasn’t he telling them? She still cared about his privacy, but this was beyond that now. How could she just sit by and watch her friend get hurt?

***

“Protego!” Verity cried, narrowly avoiding a red beam of light. The spell, aimed just above her head, shattered a bell jar on the shelf behind. A flimsy, translucent shell had bubbled around her, before it quivered and died. 

“Expellia-“

“Protego!” Verity’s eyes itched. They had been at this for an hour now, and she wasn’t making much headway. She was exhausted – not just from the effort of a difficult spell, but from keeping intrusive thoughts at bay.

‘What if you’re not capable?’

“Protego!”

‘What if you fail?’

“Protego!”

‘What if you can’t save them?’

“PROTEGO!” She roared, as a humming cave of light exploded from the tip of her wand. She barely registered Russell’s cheers, as she sank to the floor and sobbed. It didn’t feel like an achievement at all, as her mind raced with all the horrible possibilities.

“Hey – hey! It’s alright. Here, have some of this.” Russell fiddled around in his pocket, pulling out the remnants of a Honeydukes chocolate bar. He handed over the titbit with a warm smile, dropping down to the floor with her. He put his back against the wall, smelling of musk and vanilla, as he crossed his cashmere-clad arms over his chest. “I know it’s hard, but –“

“You don’t know, though, do you? No one does. These ‘visions’ might not even be real, for all I know, and here I am acting like a right melt.” Kneading her forehead with the palm of her hand, she sighed, “I’m just so _tired_ , Russ. I want it all to stop. I wish I could switch it off.” From sobbing to sullen, she sat nibbling at the chocolate with watery eyes and a frown.

“It’s all speculation at the moment, Vez. I can’t give you the answers you’re looking for. What I can do, though, is prepare you. What’s that old saying? ‘Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst’?” 

“The ‘best’ being that I’m insane, and the ‘worst’ is that we all die in a ball of white light? That’s comforting.”

“Come on, now, chin up - you know that’s not what I meant.” Said Russ, briskly. “Besides, the Order will always be there to protect you at the cottage. We’re only one message away – can you imagine Alastor leaving you and your mum to the dogs? Plus, I’m pretty sure Wynne would skin me alive if I didn’t answer the call.” He winked, and nudged her shoulder, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Verity, however, was not so easily swayed.

“What about the mole? I wish we knew who it was. It’s driving me mad.”

“You and me both, love." He spoke quietly, casting a half-smile and a side-eye in her direction. "You'll be alright, Verity. I promise you. Besides – the cottage has been re-fortified, and meetings have been moved. It’s one of the safest places you could be, other than Hogwarts.”

“Well, if these nightmares are to be believed, then I call dung, Professor.” Russ sat in silence, twiddling his wand – his face pensive. Verity’s voice broke – it was small, frail, childlike. “What if I can’t protect _him_?”

“Who?”

“My dad. He’s-he’s a muggle. I have a feeling this is all about him, but - what would a mole want with John Wilde? Why him? It’s all so confusing.” Verity cradled her head, hot tears seeping between closed lids. 

The corners of Russell’s mouth drooped, as he turned to face her, all pity and concern. “You’re just a kid, Vez, you shouldn’t have to worry about that – that’s our job, alright?”

Verity did not have the strength to argue. She didn’t have the energy to explain the nightmare in the old oak tree, and how the faceless intruder still haunted her at every opportunity. Who was it, that cut through the bark like butter, leaving her and her father vulnerable? Who was it, that exposed them to the chaos?

Who was it, that caused her mother to scream out in to the dark like a banshee? She shivered, as the sound cringed through her – an ear-splitting shriek.

As she heard the first roar of the Quidditch crowd gathered in the stadium outside, she plastered on a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, alright…can I go now, Russ? Only, the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match has just started, and I'd like to see us win.”

“Yeah. Yeah, go on, then. We’ve been up here for ages, you deserve a break." His usual happy-go-lucky demeanour returned with a flourish, as he said, "work on the shielding charm, please! We’ll revise it next Friday. Hey, Verity?” She stopped, as her hand reached for the doorknob. Ashy hair cupped her pallid cheek, the colour drained from fear and exhaustion. “Have fun, alright?”

Quidditch was many things, but she did not think it was quite powerful enough to distract her from all the awful thoughts that still milled inside her head. She didn’t mention that to Russell, though.

***

Verity made her way through the near-empty halls to the Quidditch pitch, ignoring the murmuring of general chit-chat from the portraits. Footsteps scuffled as she walked, her dreams playing in different sequences as she tried to find a pattern.

Kitchen first.  
Then tunnel.  
Running. Lights. Screams.  
Cat?

As she wheeled around a corner, she felt as though she had stepped in to a freezing cold shower. She let out a gasp, shuddering as a translucent figure appeared.

“Oh! Oh, I’m terribly sorry, didn’t see you there.” Gryffindor’s resident ghost, Nicholas De Mimsy Porpington, floated at her side with a jovial smile. His doublet shimmered, as the remnants of blood caught the slithers of daylight slashed across the floor.

“Hullo, Nick,” she said, giving her arms a rub.

“Off to enjoy the Quidditch, are we? How lucky - I do miss the thrill of a good match.” He gave a whimsical sigh, staring longingly out of the window.

“Well, I was, but I’m not sure I’m really in the mood.” Then, she paused. “Why do you have to miss it, Nicholas?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, my dear, I’m _dead_.”

“Well, yes, but you drift around here alright, don’t you?”

“I walk and talk - yes, but I cannot leave the castle walls. The Pitch, unfortunately, is a few hundred steps too far.”

“So...” The girl pondered, trying to keep her tone casual. “It’s not a Hogwarts ghost haunting the house in Hogsmeade, then?”

“Oh no. No, we can’t leave the premises. I daresay, it is a bit odd, isn’t it? No one has… _died_ there in the last year or so, or we would all have heard about it, wouldn’t we?”

“Couldn’t the ghost have been in…hibernation, or something?” Nicholas let out a booming laugh, finding Verity’s lack of knowledge rather amusing. She supposed he didn’t often have a chance to flex this kind of information.

“Highly unlikely, Miss Wilde. Ghosts don’t often have the good grace to stay dead, and we’re very proud of it. We tend to make ourselves known whenever we can. Yowling. Wailing. Clanking chains. It’s all in good fun - keeps us occupied.”

“Right. Could it be a poltergeist, like Peeves?”

“In theory, yes.” He stroked his beard, as he began to float back and forth – akin to pacing. “However, there is not enough unbridled energy. For a poltergeist to be created, you would need an event of pure chaos - the unchecked emotions of thousands of students, for example.” He chuckled to himself, as he spun delicately on a ghostly court-shoe heel. “I cannot recall anything like that happening in Hogsmeade – ‘tis a rather sleepy little town.” He pondered for a moment, before “Do you know, when the Fat Friar and I took our weekly stroll up the passage to Honeydukes – the one behind the one-eyed witch - we thought to ourselves how beastly the cries sounded. Whatever is making that noise, I doubt that it is or ever _was_ human at all. A poltergeist was never human, that is true – but, it was never animal, either…” Verity stood in silence, processing. Nicholas took this as his cue to continue. “Do you know what else I find strange, my dear?”

“What’s that?” Asked Verity, absently, as she silently logged the secret passage that Nicholas had let slip.

“The old Whomping Willow was only planted this year – a week before school started, no less. It begs the question – are the two connected somehow?” His eyes glittered with ethereal energy and intrigue. “It’s an awfully odd addition to the school grounds, don’t you think? We may not be known for our health and safety, but it seems rather ludicrous to me. A tree that attacks students, in such close proximity? Albus may prance quite happily outside the box of societal norms, but this has no rhyme or reason, unless for another purpose.”

“The sixth years are studying it, aren’t they?”

The ghost met her eyes, with a look one gives a toddler when they’re trying their best. “Professor Sprout has managed just fine without a fully grown Willow before, as did all her predecessors. Why now, eh?” His chest puffed, as a rather self-assured smile appeared on his face. 

Nearly Headless Nick – Hogwarts’ Resident Conspiracy Theorist. Verity chuckled to herself, realising that he may very well be right. Now all she had to do, was figure out what the link was.

“It’s been lovely catching up with you, Nick, but I’ve got to dash. Just realised, I left my binoculars in my dorm room. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening!”

She strolled casually around the corner, before breaking in to a run. This was the perfect topic to take her mind off of things – something she could really sink her teeth in to. With Nicholas’ words still fresh in her mind, she sprinted for the seventh floor. This mystery was much more fun.

***

As Verity scribbled furiously in her diary, laid out next to the fire, the portrait door swung open and in skulked a very familiar figure. He had a slight limp, as he hobbled along the wooden floor. Verity looked down at her spider diagram, one of many, and sighed – this could wait.

“Remus?” The boy ignored her, his eyes set determinedly on the stairwell. “Remus, please - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She was stood in front of him now, looking up at him in earnest. She noticed his eye was less puffy, the purple making way for a petrol green. He absently tugged on his sleeve again, as his eyes searched the Common Room. Everyone else was still at the Quidditch match – they were alone.

“It’s fine, Verity.” He conceded, meeting her gaze for the first time since Potions that morning. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped like that - it wasn’t fair.”

“I just want to make sure you’re alright. It…it shocked me, that’s all.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as she shuffled her feet. One prod, and she was worried she would make it worse.

“I’m okay, promise.” His tone was final, but his face had softened. He held out his bruised pinky finger, which she gladly took. “So, what’s all this about you sleeping in class, eh? It can’t be that boring when I’m not here, surely?”

A real grin broke across Verity’s face, as she turned to pack away her things.

“What was I meant to do? Actually learn something? That’s not my style, you know that.”

“Oh, shut up – you’re smarter than most of the Slytherins put together.”

“Don’t let Cindy and Emmeline hear you say that, they’ll drop you off the back of their brooms.” The pair chuckled as they made their way up to Remus’ dorm – their previous conversation stowed, but not forgotten. Not by Verity, anyway. Throwing herself down on his bed, Verity sighed. “Why is your bed so much comfier than mine?”

“I feel like I can’t make a fair judgement, as I only have mine to compare it to.” This earned a chuckle, as Verity made herself comfortable.

“If I fall asleep, will you wake me up? I’m exhausted.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, before he asked tentatively, “Is that because you’re still having those strange dreams, True?”

“Yes…I really don’t want to talk about it, though, not right now. Can we just pretend that you don’t have a black eye, and I don’t have creepy fits in class, and just enjoy each other’s company?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

“Good. I missed you today.” 

Remus responded with rosy cheeks and a splutter. “Yeah – um, let’s not do that again, alright? I promise not to storm off next time I’m feeling sensitive.”

“Deal.”

Avoiding the herd of elephants in the room turned out to be a lot more difficult than either of them realised. Minutes ticked by in silence, as Remus absently played with Verity’s hair, her head resting on his stomach.

“I, um, I spoke to Nearly Headless Nick today.”

“Oh, right? I bet that was interesting. How does one get the title of ‘Nearly Headless’, anyway?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t actually ask him. We spoke about the haunting in Hogsmeade instead.” Hands fell from her loose waves, as Remus propped himself up on his elbows.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Nick doesn’t think it’s a ghost at all – too many inconsistencies.”

“A poltergeist, perhaps?” Verity didn’t notice the hitch in his voice, or the clamminess of his hands. She didn’t notice his heart start to beat violently inside his chest, as she carried on, none the wiser.

“No, we spoke about that. Not enough chaotic energy…he thinks, whatever it is, it’s connected to the Willow. It was so funny, Reems, you should have seen him! He was so passionate.” Verity’s girlish laughter peeled around the room. “He could be right, though. Davey Gudgeon said he swore he saw a hole in the tree trunk. If there is, I’m going to find out what’s in there. Screw James, he can eat my dust.” 

The two friends couldn’t have been more different at that moment – one full of confidence, the other, complete dread. 

The boy’s throat was dry, as he managed to choke out. “Oh. Do you – do you think that’s a good idea?” 

Remus shifted in his seat, making Verity sit upright. He looked dizzy and pale, as he leaned forwards towards his knees, expelling a gust of air. Verity shuffled forwards, rubbing his back.

“Do you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing? You’re not looking so good.”

“No, no I’m alright." He composed himself, before adding, "I’d think this through a bit more. You don’t know what’s in there, it could be dangerous.”

“It could be, or it could all just be one big hoax. In any case, aren’t you interested to find out what’s making all that ruckus?”

“No…and I’m sure, whatever it is, just wants to be left alone. This is…this is really stupid, Verity.”

“Stupid? I’d settle for reckless or fun, but stupid is a bit far. You sound just like Lily.”

“You’re going to battle a homicidal tree, to figure out what’s making the terrifying screams once a month, and possibly break in to its lair? Forgive me, which part of that isn’t stupid?”

“Do you speak to James and Sirius like this, when they come up with all their schemes?”

“Yes. Plus, their plans are usually less dangerous.”

“What about when –“

“I’m being serious, Verity. This is one of those plans that’s fun to talk about, then you put it in a box, on a shelf, and never think about again.” He shook his head, running his hand over his face. “Don’t do this, please? I – I don’t want you to get hurt.” His gaze was intense – imploring. He bowed his head, and busied himself with removing balls of lint from his comforter. As Verity analysed him, she made a decision.

“Okay. Alright, I won’t.” 

This seemed to placate him, as he settled back against the bed. As Verity’s cheek found its way back to his woollen jumper, she tried to ignore the guilt nibbling away at her insides.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? They’d be in and out, quick as a flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo yo yo, it's me, here to bring you yet another chapter of Hogwarts: A Mystery.
> 
> Come to think of it, that probably would have been a better title 😂
> 
> How is everyone? Hope you're all alright! My kids started back at school this week, so it's been all systems go!
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated and welcomed - kudos and comments are basically the elixir of life to fic authors, we lap that stuff up.
> 
> Things are ticking on - we have seven chapters left. The magic number! Tune in next week to find out what happens next.
> 
> L♥ xx


	15. An Unexpected Visitor

Christmas at Thistle Hall was always such a grand affair. Verity tugged at the sash of her crimson dress, pulling a face as she stood in the cluttered kitchen of Foxglove Cottage, feeling very out of place. The tulle petticoat scratched at her legs, putting pinpricks in her pale tights before they had even set foot out of the door. Her mother bustled about, filling various water dishes for the owls and the cats, her decorative antlers catching on the tinsel that hung from the dark wood beams.

“Oh, don’t be like that, darling – it’s only one day!” 

“I’m sure nanny wouldn’t mind if I didn’t dress like a creepy little doll this year.” The exasperation in Verity's voice was not well-hidden, as she gestured to her get-up.

“I’m sure nanny _would_ mind, if you turned up in your dungees and trainers.”

Verity mimicked her mother behind her back, as she dragged herself over to the fireplace.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“Stop your huffing, it’s Christmas! There’ll be no sour faces today.” Checking the clock, her mother let out a gasp. “Oh, rats. we’re going to be late! Come on, grab the pot, let’s get a wiggle on.”

Verity reached for the Floo powder, scattering it into the hearth and grinning as she was bathed in an emerald glow.

“Can I go?”

“Put your cloak on – we don’t want to ruin your dress, do we?” Her mother chucked a matching cloak, embroidered with gold stars, across the kitchen. Catching it, Verity put it on with a grumble.

“Who’s going to be there?” She asked, as she fastened the clasp under her chin. The hood fell delicately over her hair, which was pinned back with a velvet bow of a similar colour. She felt like a festive Red Riding Hood.

Her mother pondered for a moment, as she secured her own cloak – a red tartan number, quite literally bedecked with bells. No whistles, though, thank Merlin.

“Well – nanny and Great Uncle Ian should be there, along with your aunts, Rudyard and the girls. Not sure about Corban.” Her mother’s tone darkened – she had never been a huge fan. “Oh! We’re hosting the Potters this year. James will keep you company - I’m sure you pair will be up to all manner of hijinks, as usual.”

Verity’s cheeks coloured at the thought of all the jokes James would make about her girlish attire. Then again, she was sure he’d be wearing a bow-tie that she could poke fun at, or some ridiculous jumper his mother had forced him to wear. This seemed to calm her nerves somewhat, as she imagined James in all sorts of garments – fluttering through her mind like a movie montage.

Fenella kissed Humphrey on the head, to an excitable ‘wow!’, before joining Verity at the mantel.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“You first, then. Let nanny know I’m not far behind.”

Stepping in to the roaring flames, Verity cried,

“Thistle Hall!” Twirling up the flue and out of sight.

***

The girl stumbled out of the fire place, coughing and spluttering, before being caught around the elbow.

“Verity, my girl! How good to see you. Hold on a moment – let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Fleamont Potter’s twinkling blue eyes were crinkled above a beaming smile, as he waved his wand with a flick of his wrist. Soot and debris lifted and disappeared, as Euphemia clapped her hard on the back.

“Get her a glass of water, Monty, the poor girl is full of it!” She mothered, smoothing Verity’s cloak over her head and clasping her cheek. “Are you alright, my love? Travelling by Floo is a ghastly experience, isn’t it?” The elderly woman wrapped her in a cuddle, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Soft, silvery hair tickled her nose, and Verity fought the urge to sneeze.

“It’s certainly not my favourite way to get about,” she agreed, with a weak grin. She heard a snort to her left, and trained her eyes on James Potter. “Laugh it up, you goon. I bet you didn’t fare much better.”

“Don’t be horrid, James,” his mother chided, shooting him a look that put him in his place.

“Sorry, mummy.” He stuck out his tongue, as Verity mouthed ‘mummy?’ over Euphemia’s shoulder with a wicked smile.

Fleamont returned, crystal chalice in hand, full to the brim with ice cold water.

“Where’s that delightful mother of yours, eh?” He asked, chuckling as Verity began to down the contents like her life depended on it. Surfacing for air, with a smack of her lips, she wiped her watery moustache on the sleeve of her cloak.

“Here,” she said, as Fenella stepped out of the fireplace. Tapping herself atop the head, her clothes instantly brightened.

“Oh, Nell! I do love your antlers. How wonderfully festive.”

“Thank you, Effie – you are a vision, as always.” Her mother and Mrs Potter kissed on both cheeks, grinning from ear to ear.

“Doesn’t the hall look beautiful?”

“Oh, yes. Mum’s really outdone herself this year.” 

Her mother was right – twenty foot trees lined the hallway, with fairies lighting the ornate barrelled ceiling. Baubles of red, purple and gold, of all shapes and sizes, hung majestically from the branches. Garlands of thistle and holly wrapped around the bannisters of the grand sweeping staircase. They hung across the six large fireplaces that opened out in to the entrance hall, entwined with glittering lights and succulent berries. 

The two women linked arms, chattering as their heels clacked on the marble floor, making their way to the drawing room. With a wink, and a clap on the shoulder, Fleamont followed – a glass of port already in hand, and a cigar tucked neatly behind his ear.

“What are you supposed to be?” Asked James, with a playful sneer, as Verity hung up her cloak. “A holly berry?”

“Better than a Charles Dickens character.” Quipped Verity, giggling as she pulled on James’ red silk cravat.

“Only the best for this gentleman.” His tone was serious, but his pose was not, as he bowed low to the ground and offered Verity his arm. “Would milady like escorting to the kitchens?”

“Why, good sir! I do believe I would.”

They cackled as they skipped off in search of pre-lunch treats, knowing that Poppy and Rosie would have everything their heart desired. Mince pies, fig rolls, petit fours – Verity’s mouth watered as she saw each treat build and fade in her mind’s eye.

***

“Honey, I’m ho-ome!” Cried James, throwing open the doors to the kitchens, to squeals of delight from the House Elves.

“Master Potter! Oh, look Rosie, it’s Master Potter! How good it is to see yous, sir. We was hoping you’d be coming.” Poppy looked like the most unfortunate angel Verity had ever seen – her white, floral pillowcase exchanged for a spangly number, with a golden apron and a scarf of complementary tinsel. The theme this year was Gryffindor colours.

“It’s dead Christmassy, and a brilliant way to celebrate our girl making the family house.” Her nanny had cooed from the flames only a week before.

Rosie abandoned the tray of pastries she had just removed from the oven, and scampered towards them, her ears flopping as she ran.

“Missy Wilde, Master Potter - we made your favourites! Do you wants a taste?” Her squeaky voice had dipped conspiratorially, as she waggled the skin where her eyebrows should be.

“Have we ever said no?” Asked James, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Giggling, the elf flounced over to the mounting treats, stacked neatly on the sides, all covered with cling film.

“Ooo, gimme!” Said Verity, bouncing in her seat as a few of the platters soared delicately on to the table. “Thank you, these look lovely.”

“Don’t fill up on all those sweets, darling, you’ll be too full for supper.” With a squeal, Verity hopped off of the stool and embraced her Aunt Maeve, who looked extra glamorous today. 

“Merry Christmas, Aunty Mab!” She cried, pulling away with a grin.

Swathed in a blood-red cape, with her blonde hair piled on top of her head and a cigarette dangling from one of those fancy devices, Maeve looked as though she had stepped straight out of a film. 

“My gosh, is that James? Look at you – don’t you look dashing.”

James turned the colour of Verity’s dress, tugging at his collar. “Thanks, Mab.”

“No problem at all. I can’t get over how grown up you both look! Half a term at Hogwarts, and you’re practically adults. Where does the time go?” She rifled through her handbag, giving a dramatic sigh. “Your Uncle’s got the camera. Stay where you are! I’m getting a picture of you.” She glided from the hall, nabbing an ashtray on her way.

“Shall we make ourselves scarce? I hate pictures.”

“You’ve been practically glued to Remus’ camera all term.”

“Yeah – that’s different, though.”

“Why? Because you didn’t resemble one of your nan’s giant baubles?”

“Piss off, Itchy.”

“I’m going to tell dad you’re making fun of his name.”

“I’m going to tell nanny you’re taking the mick out of her décor.”

The pair pulled faces at each other, fingers in mouths and tongues lolling, before bursting in to a fit of giggles. 

Verity must admit, it was really nice spending quality time with James. Remus and Sirius were their closest friends at the castle, but James was practically her brother – it was a different kind of friendship. With no siblings of their own, they had adopted each other in their youth and spent the majority of it irritating each other to no end. There’s no one she’d rather do it with, though.

“Oh, dung.” Muttered Verity under her breath, as her Aunt reappeared in a fanfare of brushed satin. Her ballgown rippled around her statuesque frame, as she shuffled them together shoulder to shoulder.

“There. Now, smile!” Casting each other a quick glance, Verity and James proceeded to pull the ugliest faces they could muster – all cross-eyes and teeth. Fingers gnarled in to claws, trying to hold their pose without giggling. “Oh – oh, come on now, you two, let’s take a nice one.”

“…”

“Your faces will stay that way. There may be no wind, but I know a charm or two.” When they refused to rearrange their features, Mab snapped a shot with a shake of her head. “This will be fantastic bribe material, I can feel it in my bones. Right, nice one now – let’s compromise.”

James slung his arm around her shoulder, as Verity made bunny ears above his head. With smiles to match their Sunday best, they beamed in to the camera, seeing stars as it went off with a flash.

“Did you get it?” Asked Verity, removing herself from James’ side with a shove. He flipped her the finger, tousling his hair and grimacing as he pulled away – Sleekeazy slicking his palm.

“Yes. Run along now, you two. I’m sure your cousins are around here somewhere. Oh – if you see Peg with a glass of wine, remove it, will you? The last thing we need are morbid predictions over lunch.”

Secretly, Verity thought this was a very good idea indeed. She would be completely mortified if her Aunt brought up her dreams over the Christmas pheasant. She nodded with a half-smile, waving as Mab went off in search of her husband.

***

“Verity? James? Come down now, please, lunch is about to be served.”

The two children, who had broken in to the broom shed, were currently racing around the grounds of the Manor. It sat in the middle of sprawling lawns, lit up like Blackpool Illuminations. The ivy covering the majority of the stone had been woven with white lights, giving the walls a glittering effect, even in the December daylight. Wreaths hung from every door, with red bows and berries hidden between the holly and thistle sprigs. The fountain – guarded by two stone stags, was shooting streams of liquid gold instead of water. It pooled in the bottom tier, viscous and shimmering. Droplets splattered the light gravel of the driveway that surrounded it, settling only for a moment before it disappeared.

“We should have gone for a fly in the woods while we had the chance.” Grumbled Verity, as they dismounted on the springy, well-manicured grass.

“There’s always later.” Whispered James, as he beamed at Rudyard. “Afternoon, Mister Crane.”

“Rudyard, James – call me Rudyard. We have this conversation every year.” The lofty figure smiled down his large, beaky nose, placing a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “Tell me, how has your holiday been so far?”

“Great, thank you, sir.”

“Being good for your ma and pa?”

“Always.” James scowled as Verity scoffed, which she returned with with a toothy grin.

“James and ‘good’ are rarely in the same sentence, Uncle.”

“Except, perhaps, when it comes to Quidditch? Your father was just regaling us all with the tale of the Hospital Tower. I imagine Minerva did not like that one bit.” He opened the door to the dining room, a cheekiness in his eyes.

“Erm – no. She wasn’t impressed. Neither was mum.”

“Your father’s always had a penchant for chaos, though, hasn’t he?” Her Uncle chuckled, as he pulled out Verity’s chair. “From the sounds of things, that was a magnificent bit of flying. You and Verity should try out for the team next year - they’re always looking for new blood.”

“Thank you, Mis- err, Rudyard.”

“No need.” He said, with a nod, before striding towards the top of the table, and taking his place next to Great Uncle Ian.

Ian was, for all intents and purposes, a muggle. Nanny did not like the word other wizards used – it held negative connotations. He lived in a cottage in the neighbouring village, using Thistle Forest to hunt game and to train his falcons, which he used for his pest-control business.

The man was full of wonderful stories, having spent most of his youth travelling the world. Verity could already see Rudyard’s shoulders shaking, as Ian and Fleamont launched in to one of their many escapades. Edwin, Patty's late husband, and Monty, had taken Ian under their wing. He may not be able to perform magic, but he's a bloody good laugh - they'd say.

“Oh, to be a fly in their soup.” Mumbled James, as he watched with a forlorn look on his face.

“I don’t think that’s the right phrase, mate.” Snickered Verity, as she glanced around the large room. 

It was grandiose on a normal day, with gold cornicing and ornate chandeliers, casting the ceiling in a prism of light. The Christmas theme made it all the grander, with seven ginormous trees placed strategically around the room, unable to escape the uninterrupted theme of red and gold. 

Looking up, Verity uttered a noise of pure delight, as she realised that her nanny had replicated the Great Hall at Hogwarts – lion banners hung in the cloudless enchanted sky, surrounded by floating candles. At each seat, there was a cracker, a silk napkin, and a fine china plate – polished like glass. The table was littered with garlands, pine cones and tinsel, with places open for trays and platters.

“Giz a wee dram o’ that, there, Peg.” Her daughter filled her cup, and Patty stood, raising her crystal chalice. “Welcome tae another Christmas at Thistle Hall. How brilliant it is tae see all your smiling faces.” The elderly woman beamed, waving in a queenly fashion – her garnet robe slipping down her wizened arm. “I do hope you enjoy the food, and the company, as much as I plan tae.” Ignoring Hestia and Athena, Verity’s younger cousins, who were giggling and whispering between themselves, she added, “If we are all ready, Peggy would like to give thanks and ask our favour.”

As she sat, she patted her white coiffed hair and adjusted her angular glasses, placing her hands neatly in her lap. Verity’s Aunt thanked her and stood, in a vision of rubies. Jewels dripped off of her thin fingers, and hung heavily around her neck, as she cast the party a winning smile. Her soft, ethereal voice danced from ear to ear, tip-toeing through the foliage and up in to the ether. 

“Maiden, goddess, brilliant one, fair as the last frost –  
Lace-etched on the earth, gone with the morning sun. 

Mother, goddess, radiant one, giver of life –  
Granter of gifts simple and profound, primal and raw. 

Elder, goddess, shining one, wise in all things.  
The copper crone, the last bright leaves on the trees. 

With each uncertain step we take into the now, we know you;  
With each leap of faith, each fool's journey, each promise of life not yet fulfilled, we know you. 

Rooted in the deep earth, in bones and blood we feel your might,  
We know you in the tides that turn the world, the hand on the cradle, 

the feast of first harvest, the kicking child within the womb,  
the hot sun on our heads, the warm breeze tousling our children's hair. 

Whether in peace or in rage, an end comes to all things –  
In both lie a wisdom, in both lie a rightness. 

We know you when our every breath comes out in clouds, we know your guiding hand,  
the refuge of your arms, we know your might in the full course of our lives. 

Witches three, we call on you, and ask of you your favour. 

Bless this food, bless this house, and bless this year to come.  
May our pantries be full, our homes be happy, and our journeys be fruitful.”

“Here, here!” Patty took her daughter’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “May yer blessings outnumber the thistle that grow, an’ may trouble avoid ye wherever you go. Now, we eat.”

Verity rolled her eyes at James, who smirked back at her with a shake of his head as their families broke in to a polite applause. Apart from Corban who did nothing to hide his boredom, swilling his champagne in his glass as he sighed loudly. Unperturbed, Peggy gave a light curtsy, and sat back down, tucking her napkin in to the front of her golden gown.

“Do you believe in that stuff?” Asked Verity, as her nanny clapped her hands. Appearing before them, were mounds of food – each platter more delicious than the next.

“Not really.” Said James, reaching for the turkey. “Seems like a load of twaddle to me.”

“Where does our magic come from, though?”

Shrugging his shoulders, the boy carved an ample amount of stuffing, and plopped it on to his plate. “Beats me – we’re just born with it, aren’t we? Some have it, some don’t.”

Before Verity could really contemplate the boy’s words, the voice of Corban Yaxley rang across the hall, laced with disdain.

“What are you bothering yourself with that for, Maeve? Leave them to it, I say. We’re not their keepers.”

Her Aunt held her composure, although her grip on her cutlery tightened – white knuckles gleamed as she placed knife and fork in a dainty cross on her plate.

“Everyone deserves representation, Corban. Even vampires.”

“Vampires are one thing – but werewolves? Dirty great beasts. Let them kill each other off and be done with it. Violence is in their nature, they don’t deserve the same respect.” Taking a glug from his goblet, he held her gaze and smirked. Maeve bit back a look of revulsion.

“Werewolves are made – not born. It is not their fault, and they are perfectly kind, reasonable human beings for most of the month. It’s prejudices like yours that award them such a bad reputation, and an exceedingly difficult existence. I pray nothing of that nature ever befalls you.”

“It never would though, would it?” He sneered, the alcohol present in both his breath and his slurring speech. “I don’t associate with that ilk. Filthy half-breeds, I’d no more cross paths with one than fly in the air unaided. Look at Fenrir Greyback, for example – great brute of a man, preying on children for sport. Killing comes naturally to foul beasts such as he, Maeve, and you’re protecting them? You’re in the wrong business, if you ask me.”

“Respectfully, Corban, I did not ask you. I enjoy my job – if I can make life easier for the less fortunate, then I shall endeavour to do so.”

“Less fortunate? More like lesser creature -”

“Haud yer _wheesht _.” Patricia’s voice rang clear as a church bell, calling for the level of grace and decorum one expected at such events. “You have your views, Yaxley, but they are not ones I wish to be repeated around my grandchildren.”__

__“Athena is my daughter, I shall say –“_ _

__“You shall _not_ say, not under my roof.”_ _

__Patricia Hayworth-Fraser was a classy woman. She sat, shoulders back and poised, as she stared Corban down as though he were at the end of a particularly dangerous wand. Verity was in awe of her grandmother – how could she stay so calm, when she clearly wanted to vault the table and box his ears?_ _

__Her Uncle scoffed, folding his napkin and throwing it unceremoniously on to his dish, as he scraped his chair back across the oak floor._ _

__“If you’ll excuse me, I must see a man about a dragon.”_ _

__He stalked from the room, his eyes dark and brow heavy with unspoken thoughts._ _

__James shot Verity a sideways glance, biting his lip. They held a conversation with their eyes – Verity’s apologetic, and James’ confused. Athena had sunk so low in her chair, that only the top of her brown hair was visible. Hestia gabbled on next to her, her blue eyes dancing with the innocence Verity so wished she had not lost herself._ _

__A heaviness had fallen over the room. Fleamont frowned in to his dessert wine, swirling the rich amber liquid as he listened intently to his friend’s hushed whispers. Ian cast a clandestine glance towards the vast double doors, that her Uncle had disappeared through not a minute before. Peggy, whose cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, cleared her throat._ _

__“Sorry about that, everyone – Corban can be quite opinionated.”_ _

__“Don’t apologise for him, Peg. He’s a grown man, it is not your responsibility to speak for him.” Said Fenella, shortly. Her head whipped round, as Poppy scurried in to the hall with her head bowed._ _

__She whispered something in her mother’s ear, which caused quite the reaction. Excusing herself, Fenella stood abruptly and strode from the room, with Poppy in her wake._ _

____

***

“What do you think that was about?” Muttered Verity, her eyes focused on the doorway.

“I dunno, but it didn’t look good. Wanna check it out?” Replied James, in a hushed tone. “I’m getting a bit bored of this, everyone’s miserable now.”

Nodding discreetly, Verity put on her best smile,

“Nanny? May we be excused? James and I would like to go and play.”

“Aye, go on. Keep out of trouble, you pair. I want nae reports from Rosie that you’ve been causing mischief.”

With promises to be good (ones that they did not plan to keep for very long), the two friends dashed across the hall and out of sight. Easing the door shut behind them, they hid behind Christmas trees and pillars as they snuck their way down the hall. Ears pricked, they listened for Verity’s mother. It seemed rather futile, in a house of this size.

It wasn’t long, however, before a sharp intake of breath sounded next to her, and James grabbed her roughly around the wrist.

“Ouch! What was that -”

“Blood.” Motioning with his eyes, Verity followed James’ uneasy gaze to the floor. Sure enough, tiny droplets peppered the white marble underneath their feet. They followed them, like sinister bread crumbs, right to the door of the Drawing Room, which had been left ajar. Pressing a finger to her lips, Verity peeked inside, as James pushed his ear to the door.

“…out of nowhere, Nell. Eight of them, all in cloaks and masks…they must have known where to find us…we lost Johnson – killing curse. I barely made it out of there…alive, didn’t know where else to turn.” Words were spoken through gritted teeth, the pain apparent in every syllable.

“You’ve done the right thing, Russell. Sit still - this is going to sting.” An agonised hiss, and a quiet groan later, she heard her mother’s voice ask, “Was Wynne with you?”

“No. She’s at home, thank Merlin. She’s going to gut me like a fish when I rock up – tried to tell me it was a stupid idea before I left, but would I listen?”

“Of course not. Listening has never really been your style, has it?” Fenella chuckled, the sound of glass clinking followed. “Take this for the pain, and this for recovery. You’re going to look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a Mountain Troll for at least a week, but you should be back to normal before school starts up.”

“Great – thanks, Nell.”

Verity noticed that James had been unnaturally quiet. Looking across, she saw his face was the epitome of befuddlement – squinted eyes, furrowed brows, and a scrunched mouth.

“What are they on about?” He mouthed, as Verity hushed him.

She shrugged, knowing full-well that it had something to do with the Order. She did not know how much James was privy to, and did not want to be the one to tell him. She didn’t fancy being bawled out by her mother.

Beckoning to him, she made to turn around, and was eye-level with Corban Yaxley’s belly button.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” His cold amusement rang through the corridor – the acoustics of the high ceilings amplifying the sound. James cringed, facing Verity’s Uncle in solidarity.

“We got lost, Corbs. Just trying to find the toilet.” He explained, feebly, scratching the back of his neck. 

“A likely story. Ah, Fenella – you might want to deal with these two, I’ve just caught them red-handed.”

Fenella scowled at her daughter,

“Thank you, Corban. I shall take it from here.” Dragging them in to the room by their ears, she gave a curt nod and slammed the door. Verity was surprised to find the room empty.

“What was Russell doing here? Where’s he gone?” She asked, more out of shock than anything else. She would have heard him disapparate, surely?

Fenella’s eyes flicked to James, who remained silent, but intrigued.

“Nearly blew himself up trying to cook dinner. He’s alright, I gave him something for the burns.”

James looked sceptical, but knew better than to question Fenella. Verity scrutinised her mother, who had no idea how much the pair of them had heard. She decided not to press it, however, assuming her mother was being secretive for the same reason she had been. She would ask Russ once they returned to school, if not before.

“Right. Sorry, mum.”

“Yeah, sorry Nell.”

Giving them both a stern look, her shoulders relaxed,

“You’d best make yourselves scarce, before I ground you for a week. I may not be your mother, James, but I hold some sway with your parents. Don’t let me find out that you’ve been wigging on any more conversations – understand? You never know what you’re going to hear, it could be dangerous information.” Her mother stared pointedly at her, before holding the heavy oak door open. “Go on – out.”

As Verity and James trudged past the numerous trees in silence, James stopped and spun on his heel, looking the girl straight in the eye.

“You know more than you’re letting on, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Glowering, he ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair.

“Fibber. It sounds to me, as though Russ was out fighting Death Eaters.”

“Shhh!” Pleaded Verity, eyes darting left and right. “You have absolutely no tact, Potter.”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

“Well, it sure sounded that way, didn’t it?” Verity decided that she could play along without giving away any real facts.

“You would have thought they’d wait until the cover of nightfall, though.” James sniffed, as he looked out the window in to the crisp light. “I wonder if it’s just the two of them, or some kind of crime-fighting syndicate…” James’ face lit up, as he whispered, “Maybe they’re like Batman and Robin.”

Verity burst out laughing, dragging James down the hall. She loved him dearly, but he was a bloody idiot sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in September? Madness!
> 
> Argh, six more chapters to go! This is what the edge of your seat is made for.  
> Hope you're all enjoying this so far - the tension is rising.  
> Stay tuned to find out what happens next!
> 
> Hope you're all safe and healthy, and having a wonderful week 😊
> 
> Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! Kudos and comments give me LIFE!
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> (If you're interested to see what these adorable little ragamuffins look like, I've got age-appropriate face-claims for them [here](https://li0nheartstories.tumblr.com/post/628567486835703809/lion-hearts-golden-the-girls-verity-chandni))
> 
> Scotticisms: 
> 
> Giz a wee dram - give us a little sip
> 
> Haud yer wheesht - hold your tongue
> 
> The prayer said by Peggy is actually made up of parts of a real prayer, which can be found [here](https://ashandembers.livejournal.com/633.html). It is absolutely beautiful in its entirety, but much too long for this chapter.
> 
> Patty's blessing about thistle and trouble is real, too!


	16. Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sticking with book canon, not film canon, when it comes to werewolves. That is all, be on your way ✨

Verity shivered, clutching Hibou’s cage in one hand, and her trunk in the other. Her thin white t-shirt and dungarees did nothing to shield her from the elements. Oh, how she wished she had listened to her father.

As if reading her mind, John gave her a sly grin and a nudge, “Told you so.”

“I didn’t think it would be this cold.”

“It’s the middle of winter, Vez. What did you expect?”

“Some sympathy from my dear old dad, maybe?”

John’s booming laughter bounced along Platform 9 & ¾, getting lost in the steam and squeals of excited children – reunited after Winter Break. 

She stood on tip-toe, trying to catch a glimpse of Lily’s fiery red hair, or James’ unruly black mop. She scanned for Chandni’s family, as she thought six young girls and their parents would not be difficult to spot. 

Sirius, who was a bit further up the platform, was playing a game with his brother. They giggled and groaned, holding their arms with an air of drama that seemed to run in their family. Just as Sirius pulled back his arm for a particularly large swing, Walburga turned, with a level of exasperation befitting a mother of two young boys. She hissed through tight lips and gritted teeth, her sail-white skin tinged with embarrassment, as she nodded politely at the Malfoys – another family of pureblood fanatics. Taking Sirius by the shoulder, and Regulus by the hand, she marched them along the platform towards Verity and her father. 

Verity gave Sirius a small wave, and mouthed “I’ll find you!” as they passed, with Walburga’s pointy, determined frame scuffing her father on the shoulder. With a grimace, he rubbed the spot they had collided, watching after her with a look of great dislike.

“That’s the woman from Diagon Alley, isn’t it?”

“It is, indeed - Walburga Black, the wickedest witch of the West.”

“Isn’t her son a friend of yours? I thought I saw him in that little photo album Remus sent you for Christmas?”

“Yeah, but his mum looked like she was on the war path. I’d rather not throw myself in to that line of fire.”

John nodded, casting the family a furtive glance, before rearranging his features in to a smile.

“Where’s that mate of yours, anyway? I was hoping to bump in to Lyall - I had some more questions for him about the Ministry and Non-‘Spirity’ Apparitions.”

Verity’s groan mixed with a giggle, as she buried her face in her hands. “Oh, dad, don’t be embarrassing, I’m sure Mr Lupin doesn’t want to talk about work all the time.”

John scoffed, his eyes darting through the crowds, “Who wouldn’t? His job is fascinating. Do you think he’d let me join him on an expedition?” Her father’s moony eyes made Verity snort with derision, as she patted him on the arm.

“I’m sure he’d love that, some mad muggle wild with excitement –“

“Oi, we’ll have less of that.”

She stuck out her tongue, which was met with her father mussing her hair. Batting him away, with red cheeks and a playful scowl, she resumed her people-watching. 

If she was honest, it had been the floppy hair and lopsided grin she’d been searching for since she arrived – Remus hadn’t replied to her last letter, and she wasn’t sure where to meet him. It was almost time to leave, and her stomach was in knots. What if he missed the train?

“Morning, Vezebel!” Dorcas had stopped beside her, her thick black braids pulled in to a high bun. Ziba and Abe gave her father friendly smiles.

“Cassafras! Morning Mr and Mrs Meadowes, good Christmas?”

“It was wonderful, thank you. Busy, though! Did you hear about the muggle plane crash? Ghastly business - it was all-hands-on-deck at The Prophet.”

“You barely sat down all holiday, dear.” Chuckled Abe, patting his wife on the arm.

John stood beside his daughter, hands in pockets, as he observed the exchange like a tennis match.

“Oh! Dad, this is Ziba and Abe – they work with mum sometimes. Mr and Mrs Meadowes, this is John.”

“Lovely to meet you both! So, Dorcas belongs to you, does she?”

As their parents exchanged pleasantries, they were joined by Francesca, her parents, and three children Verity assumed to be her siblings.

“Finneas, stop pushing Flora. Fauna, stop laughing at your sister. Franny, can you help, please?” Mrs Fallow’s slightly-crazed laughter was understandable, as she held two children apart, who were punching and kicking the air in front of them. Francesca grumbled, as her sister, Fauna, watched on in amusement. Mr Fallow ignored his wife’s predicament, and bounded forwards with his arm out-stretched.

“Hello, there! I’m Frederick, good to meet you. You’re Nell’s husband, I take it?”

Verity and John traded awkward glances, before he launched in to a well-rehearsed explanation. As their parents caught up, so did the girls.

“Good Christmas?” Asked Verity, with a grin.

“Yeah, I guess.” Huffed Dorcas, crossing her arms. “Mum was barely at home – some muggle athletes crashed in the mountains somewhere, and they all… _ate_ each other.”

“What?” Whispered Verity, as Francesca gasped in horror.

“It’s awful, isn’t it? My Christmas day was full of cannibalism instead of turkey, which was rather off-putting.” Crinkling her nose in disgust, she ignored the looks of queasy terror – growing up with a journalist for a mother had desensitised her somewhat. “Anyway, less about that! What did you get up to, Fran?”

“Oh, it was brilliant! I spent most of it baby-sitting, mind you, but the food was great and we all got loads of prezzies. Plus, we had a litter of Crups in November – they’re so chubby and sweet!” The girl gave a toothy grin, her eyes crinkling in delight. Franny’s mother ran a rescue and rehabilitation centre for magical creatures, not far from Cardigan Bay in Wales. Fallows Farm dealt with all sorts of animals, from Crups (which are, for all intents and purposes, magical Parsons Jack Russells) to unicorns.

“Ohh, I’d love a puppy!” Moaned Verity. “I don’t think Arch would like it very much, though - not a huge fan of dogs.”

“Plus, you can’t have them at school, can you? The poor thing wouldn’t see you for most of the year!” Said Dorcas, fairly.

“That’s a good point. Still, we can all dream, eh?”

“At least with pets you can train them, my siblings are wild animals.”

“I didn’t know you had three!”

“Oh, yeah, they’re triplets. A right pain in the bum, but I’m stuck with them now!”

“Hey!” Yelled Finneas, as he wound up for a well-aimed kick towards Francesca’s shin. Mrs Fallow muttered something out of the corner of her mouth. With a flick of her wand, he was stuck in that position, leg hanging immobile behind him. “Mum!” He groaned, wiggling his upper half in an attempt to break free. Seeing John’s look of shock, the woman laughed, her golden curls bouncing in time with her shoulders.

“You do what you have to do, don’t you?” 

“Of course. I’d love a magic wand, just for that reason.”

Verity’s hands flew to her chest in mock offence, before she linked arms with the two girls next to her.

“That sounds like our cue to leave. Come on, girls, before we get a leg-locker, too!” 

“SOS – save our shins!”

The gaggle of parents, and Franny’s naughty siblings, laughed and waved as they struggled their way down the platform with their luggage and mini menagerie.

They found an empty compartment, stowing their various bits and pieces overhead.

“Shall we take a little walk down the train? I’m sure we could find the other girls hiding somewhere.”

“Sure! I’m surprised you’re not with Remus, you know? You two go everywhere together.”

“Yeah, well – I didn’t hear back from him. I’m sure he’s here somewhere.” Verity realised she had been picking at her nails, and shoved them deeply in to the pockets of her dungarees. Dorcas and Francesca smirked, as they shot each other a sideways glance.

“Is that why you want to check the train?”

“No.”

“What happened to girl code, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Franny patted her on the head with an infuriating grin, her clear eyes filling with mirth.

As Verity was about to retort, the door swung open, and Vera appeared in a hurricane of dark hair and too much luggage. She squeaked as she fell in through the door, trying to compose herself as her black cat ran for cover.

“Morning, V.”

“Morning, all.” She muttered, smoothing out her dress as she took her seat. Peering out the window, she waved to her parents. 

Johnathon sat on his father’s shoulders, his pudgy arm waving frantically. He leant down to whisper something in his father’s ear, and burst in to fits of giggles as Derek reached up to tickle him. Heaving him off his shoulders, he brought him closer to the train window, so that Vera could say goodbye. Reaching through the top, she held his hand, giggling to herself as he squashed his face against the glass.

“Hi Johnathon!” Verity beamed through the window at him, pretending to tickle his belly.

“Get off, Verity!” He squealed, his feet kicking against the glass as her fingers danced across it.

“Be good for mum and dad, okay?” Said Vera – as always, her voice was soft as brushed cotton.

“No!” The little boy crossed his arms in defiance.

“Don’t be silly, John, pop your listening ears on.” Throwing his head back with a groan, his hands flew to his ears, and he mimed flicking them on.

“There, see? I was listhening.”

As the train let out a high-pitched whistle, Derek pulled his son away from the window, and the girls all stood to say goodbye. Verity spotted Peter’s mum and her hankie, and managed to wave jubilantly at the Potters, before catching her father’s eye. He blew her a kiss, and caught hers over his heart. The train turned a corner, and John and his broad smile were gone.

***

Finding the Gryffindor girls had been fairly easy – they had only been a few compartments down. Verity left them all playing an enthusiastic game of snap, and continued her search of the train.

It was proving rather futile, until,

“Trudy! In here!” It was the unmistakeable squeak of Peter Pettigrew’s voice, and Verity breathed a sigh of relief. 

It was short-lived, however, when she came face to face with three out of four of her favourite boys – and not actually the one she was looking for. Instead, they were joined by a few of the other Gryffindor first years. Basil Griffin’s rounded face looked up from a game of Wizard’s chess, giving her a smug smile, as Faizal Chowdhury frowned at his pieces. Basil may not have realised it yet, but Faizal was winning. 

Ken Kido was keeping score, whilst chatting Quidditch with James, who was sporting his well-worn Puddlemere United t-shirt. Without breaking eye contact, James motioned for her to take a seat next to him, as Sirius removed his feet from the bench with a grin. His copy of Transfiguration Today hit the floor with a resounding slap.

“Alright, Vezza?”

“Ey up, Silly. Good Christmas?”

“Silly?”

“Well, you’re not exactly Serious, are you?” His bark of laughter caused the boys in the corner to look up from their Chocolate Frog Cards – Peter, who gave her a hearty wave, and Tadhg. 

Verity felt her cheeks burn, and every interesting thought she’d ever had left her brain. His hair was the colour of blackjacks, and his face was just as sweet. Crushes – the bane of an eleven year old’s existence. The boy’s freckles were accentuated by a rosy blush, as he quickly busied himself with his sizeable collection of famous Witches and Wizard cards. Peter’s knee jiggled, as Tadhg tried to figure out which ones were swappable. James watched the interaction with a smirk, ignoring Ken’s rundown of the recent Wimbourne Wasps defeat.

Feeling his mocking gaze, Verity cleared her throat and hopped to her feet, “Um, when Remus gets back, can you tell him I was looking for him? The girls and I-“

“We thought he was with you?” Sirius looked thoroughly bemused, as sterling eyes met James’ hazel.

“Oh dung, I was worried about this. What if he missed it?” Verity bit down on her lip, the familiar sting and metallic taste an unwanted consequence. She always chewed when she was nervous.

“You know what he’s like, True - there’s no way he’d be late enough to miss the train.” 

“Yeah.” Agreed Sirius, swinging his legs back up on the seat, much to Basil’s chagrin. “He’s probably squirrelled away somewhere, with his nose stuck in a textbook.” 

As Verity slid the cabin door shut once more, she thought that James’ half-smile was not convincing at all.

***

“SNAP!” Squealed Franny, scooting backwards in case the deck exploded. A hush fell over the group of six, as they scrutinised the pile in front of them.

Nothing.

Shoulders relaxed, and chatter resumed, as Verity appeared in the doorway.

“Did you find him?” Asked Lily, without looking up from her deck. Shaking her head, Verity took a seat, placing her feet on the trunk that was being used as a table. Jinx crawled in to her lap, flexing her claws against Verity’s thighs as she settled. The softness of the silvery fur was soothing, and the little girl pondered to herself in silence.

Where was he?

“…the willow?”

Shaking the cotton from her ears, Verity blushed, “Sorry, Cassie, I was miles away.”

Rolling her eyes, the girl repeated, “Have you had any more thoughts about the willow?”

The girls had been on many a reconnaissance mission since their chat in Charms. They bobbed and weaved just out of reach of the branches (well, not always – there had been a few trips to the hospital wing), and had deduced that Davey Gudgeon had been telling the truth. There seemed to be a hole in the roots, large enough for a person to fit through. Vera had noticed that, every so often, the tree would freeze – Dorcas had her theories, but nothing concrete.

“Remus thinks we’re all mad, but…it all seems a little convenient, doesn’t it? I think Nicholas is right – the willow and the haunting could be connected.”

“That’s what we were thinking.” Franny leant forward, knees to elbows – her cards lay discarded on the seat beside her. “We had an idea over Christmas break…wanted to run it past you all.”

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, the answer is no.” Lily’s face was firm, as her eyes locked with Dorcas’.

“Oh, come on, Lillers! Tonight’s the perfect night.”

“Cassie’s right, you know. It’s New Year’s Eve, everyone will be distracted by the fireworks.” Chandni looked thoughtful, her voice laced with mischief, as Verity’s eyes gleamed.

“Tonight, then? After the feast?”

Heads swivelled, and hearts pounded, as each girl looked at Lily with quiet apprehension. After a moment, she groaned, her head dropping back on to her shoulders.

“We don’t even know how to get past it!”

“Portia Mayhew froze it before Christmas break – I saw her do it.” Dorcas rubbed at her wide button nose, her face pensive. “I think you have to touch it. I’d bet anything there’s a special spot, we just have to figure out where it is. Unfortunately, Portia’s not being very helpful.” Portia was a fifth year Hufflepuff. The girls didn’t have much chance to cross paths with her, but Dorcas wouldn’t let it go - she’d been building on her theory since Early December. 

“Come on, Lils. We won’t hang about – we’ll just have a quick mooch around?” 

“ _Fine_ , but I’m _only_ going with you to keep you out of trouble.”

“Sure you are, mum.”

***

“Ouch! That’s my foot!”

“Sorry!” Giggled Chandni, as she side-stepped Franny’s trainers.

The full moon was bright, but it did nothing to light up the inky sea of grass that lay before them. The willow swayed threateningly in the light breeze - a menacing silhouette. Marlene shrieked, as a ball of emerald erupted with a bang. Snakes slithered across the sky, casting an unnatural glow on the rustling tendrils that tickled their ankles.

“Oops.”

Verity pulled her cloak closer, wishing she could light her wand. They were dressed head to toe in black, hoping that it would hide them from the prying eyes of any unsuspecting Professors.

Giving the gamekeeper’s cabin a wide berth, the girls skulked towards the tree that had been the topic of so many whispered conversations. She heard Vera gulp next to her, ignoring the pops and crackles of the fireworks display above, as she squared up to the trunk.

“What’s the plan?” She whispered, as the girls flanked her sides.

“We can try to get past the branches, but it will be almost impossible in the dark.” Vera was quiet, as she surveyed the scene before them.

“Agreed.” Muttered Dorcas, her hand to her chin. “Is there anything we can use to try to…poke it?”

The girls looked at the forest beside them, and fear bubbled in Verity’s stomach. It would be foolish to go anywhere near it at this hour.  
The girls scrabbled across the lawn, feeling for discarded branches. Dorcas and Franny came back, arms loaded with pebbles, and began to skim them at the tree. The willow did not take kindly to the attack, and the branches creaked and groaned, flailing through the air as it tried in vain to defend itself.

Minutes passed by, with absolutely no luck. Not even a twitch. Verity almost felt guilty - she imagined Professor Sprout’s disappointed face, as they pelted the Whomping Willow with stones. She also felt rather foolish, wondering if this would work – maybe she had over-estimated their abilities, somewhat.

“Ugh!” Growled Dorcas, lobbing a particularly heavy rock. It bounced off the roots, and the tree fell still. A look of shock passed her face, as she let out a whoop of joy, followed by a sheepish grin. “Ha. See? Told you so.”

From the depths of the willow, a mournful howl whistled past them on the wind, sending a chill down Verity’s spine.

“Who’s going first?” All eyes were on her, as she sighed, and picked her way towards the hole. “Alright. Come on, then, we’d better move fast.”

One by one, they descended in to the unknown.

***

The tunnel was cold and damp. Debris crunched under foot, as they picked their way towards a sliver of light. As they grew closer, Lily huffed,

“This is ridiculous. Lumos!” Light erupted from the tip of her wand, as she confidently strode ahead, failing to hide her smug expression. Her copper hair swung around her shoulders, leading the girls towards what they now realised was a trap door. Lily tapped her foot, waiting for Verity to catch up.

“Go on, then.” She urged – her tone suggested that she didn’t believe Verity would open it. Verity thought otherwise. 

On squealing hinges, the heavy wood swung backwards, and hit the floor with a bang. There was a collective flinch, before Verity put her foot on the first rung.

“No turning back now. Are you ready?”

“Ready.” Verity ascended the ladder, wondering what they might find.

As it turns out, what they found was a well-lit, cosy room, with plush sofas and a thick rug, which had slipped from the top of the trap-door. One might think they had broken in to someone’s home, if not for the boarded-up windows.

Nicholas had been right, after all.

“The haunted house.” Breathed Vera.

“I _knew_ it.” Hissed Dorcas, her voice full of triumph. 

Lily strode towards the door, which hung enticingly ajar, and found herself in a hallway. A wooden coat stand lay sprawled on the floor, but no clothing surrounded it, nor hats or bags of any kind. The house looked more like a show-home – vacant, but fully-furnished, and comfortable enough to be habitable. As the girls padded excitably from room to room, snooping in cupboards and drawers as they went, Verity couldn’t help but notice the silence. Where had the howl come from, if not the house?

The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, acknowledging the creak of a floorboard. Franny squeaked, as she tripped over the heavy rug that lay discarded on the living room floor. Underneath it, something caught Verity’s eye. She pulled it back, to reveal long, deep gauges in the floor – claw marks, from what looked like a very large animal. What kind of ghost could do _this_?

“We need to go. Now.” As she spoke, she heard a rumble, and sprinted back in to the hallway. At the top of the stairs, a large, shadowy figure loomed. A hulking mass of hair and teeth, it rippled as another menacing growl broke free from its savage maw. “RUN!”

With a baleful howl, it gave chase.

Verity shoved Chandni and Marlene in to the lounge, turning to face the beast as Lily scrabbled for her wand. Vera, Franny and Dorcas were already at the trap door, urging the girls to move quicker.

“FLIPENDO!” Bellowed Dorcas, knocking the beast back with a yelp.

“Lily, MOVE!” Shrieked Francesca. 

“Rictusempra!” With a cry of triumph, Lily had joined the fight.

The creature buckled, twitching, as Lily and Verity backed towards the hole in the floor. Marlene and Chandni were casting spell after spell, scraped together from their limited repertoire. Vera had her wand trained on the hairy mass, visibly shaking.

“How did a wolf get in here?!”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think there _were_ any wild wolves in Scotland!” Muttered Francesca, as Vera’s face fell.

“F-flipendo!” The girl stuttered, as the tickling charm wore off. A guttural noise escaped its throat, as it stood shakily on four paws. Vera froze – her spell had been too weak.

For the first time, Verity registered what she was looking at.

A werewolf.

“Oh, Merlin.” At the sound of her voice, the creature’s head swung towards her, and met her gaze with surprisingly human eyes. Eyes the colour of moss, and leaves, and olives. Green eyes, that were oddly familiar. As Verity’s heart raced, so did her mind. Where had she seen them before?

She didn’t have much time to think, before the green eyes narrowed, and the wolf launched itself towards her with a snarl.

“Expelliarmus!” Hollered Francesca, but the charm missed, ricocheting from the Welsh dresser and hitting Marlene square in the chest. She tumbled down the hole, followed by Lily, as Chandni and the Ravenclaws closed ranks. Chandni’s eyes blazed, shoulders back and wand at eye level as she screamed,

“Flipendo! Expelliarmus! _Flip_ -“

“PROTEGO!” Roared Verity, skidding to a halt in front of her friends and flinging her arms over her face, as the animal closed the gap between them. A dome of light bloomed and glistened, knocking the werewolf across the room, where it crashed over the back of a sofa. It whimpered and began to scrabble to its feet. Now was their chance. “Go! Quick, in to the tunnel!”

Her four friends threw themselves in to the hole, ignoring the ladder, as Verity braced herself for another attack. She grabbed the handle of the trap door, and struggled to heave it shut. Eyes appeared over the top of the couch. Narrowed. Curious. _Hungry_.

With immense effort, Verity managed to pull the door closed, with an earth-shattering bang. The scrabbling of claws, and frustrated, disappointed wails could be heard inches above their heads – feverish snuffling blew hot jets on top of their already-dishevelled hair. Dorcas took off at a sprint, with her friends hot on her heels. As they reached the end of the tunnel, Francesca stomped on the knotted root closest to her, and the willow fell still once more. All thoughts of being caught were long gone, as they sprinted towards the safety of the castle.

Verity’s heart was in her mouth, as they plunged in to the shadows of the great oak doors. Catching their breath, Chandni squinted in to the night, most likely checking that they were not being followed.

“Are you alright?” Mumbled Verity, as Marlene winced.

“I think so – just a bit bruised.”

“We should tell someone.” Wheezed Vera. “Dumbledore.”

“No.” Verity snapped, shocking her friends, and herself.

“If a wolf is loose in the grounds, surely –“

“It wasn’t loose, though, was it? It’s trapped in a shack we’ve all been told to steer clear of.”

“Be reasonable, Verity.”

“I am being reasonable. We shouldn’t have been in there in the first place – what’s that phrase, play stupid games, win stupid prizes? I don’t fancy getting expelled, do you?” Verity sighed, swiping unruly hair out of her face. “It was only so riled up because we ambushed it in the middle of the night, the poor thing was probably frightened! Let’s just go to bed.” 

With mumblings of unease, and a few unconvinced glances, the girls shuffled in to the Entrance Hall, being as quiet as they could.

Verity didn’t know why, but she had a strange urge to protect the poor creature. It seemed as though her friends had not cottoned on to what it really was, and she wasn’t about to start spilling secrets. Remus was right – whoever it was, probably wanted to be left alone.

***

The greenhouse was chilly today – not just because of the weather, but also, because her friends were still giving her the cold shoulder. Verity sketched the Puffapod plant in front of her, in Remus’ usual seat, and muttered corrections in Peter’s ear. As Professor Sprout milled from desk to desk, there was a quiet knock on the greenhouse door. Remus entered, his usually jovial face set in grim disapproval – it wasn’t a look Verity was used to. She waved him over, and he scowled, dragging a chair from another table and plonking himself down next to James. Puzzled, Verity tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her gaze.

As the clock ticked on, he ignored her notes, and her attempts to catch his eye, too - so she took matters in to her own hands. Under the guise of borrowing more parchment, she slunk over to his seat, and whispered.

“How are you feeling? We couldn’t find you on the –“

“I’m not in the mood, Verity.” Hurt washed over the girl, as her hands curled on the table.

“Sorry…are you alright?” He scoffed, and carried on with his diagram. James shrugged, and Sirius mouthed ‘PMS?’ across the table. “Come on, Reems, you can –“

Placing his quill down, he kept his eyes downcast as he said, “You lied to me.”

“What? No, I-“

“You told me you wouldn’t, and you did.”

“Did what?” Asked James, but Verity already knew.

“How do you –“

“Does it matter? For Merlin’s sake, Verity, you could have been _killed_. You could have gotten them all _killed_!” His tone was quiet, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

“It wasn’t just my –“

“You promised me. You _promised_ me you wouldn’t do it, and –“

“Do _what_?” The impatience in James’ voice was drowned out by Verity’s reply.

“Why does it matter? We’re all alright, aren’t we? No harm done. What’s got you so worked up?”

For the first time since he arrived, Remus met her gaze. Fierce forest-green eyes met her hazel like a wildfire, and a pang of recognition rippled through her - she couldn’t put her finger on it. As Professor Sprout bustled her way towards them, ready to break up the impending shouting match, he growled and raked a hand through his hair.

“Forget it.” 

A thousand rebuttals battled behind her teeth, but she clamped her mouth shut, and stalked back to her seat. She quickly finished the rest of her Puffapod through blurry eyes, and spent the rest of the class hiding behind a thick sheet of hair. 

Remus never spoke to her like that. It may have been a bit reckless, trying to get past the Willow, but they had learnt their lesson. It wasn’t even _her_ idea! Peter gave her a sympathetic smile, before asking if he could copy her classwork.

As the bell for the next class rang, she hurried off, shoulders racked with sobs. James rounded on Remus, as she disappeared out of sight.

“What was that for?” He asked. Remus rolled his eyes, shoving his work back in to his briefcase.

“Drop it, James.”

“No. What happened?”

Remus sighed, running a hand over his face. “None of your bus-“

James’ cheeks flushed, as his eyes narrowed. “I’m making it my business – the girls aren’t talking to her, either, and she’s been channelling Moaning Myrtle since Saturday.” Remus remained silent, waiting for James to let him pass, with an indecipherable expression. “…You know, she was so worried when you didn’t turn up on the platform - she searched the whole train for you. Whatever’s pissed you off, I bet it wasn’t worth making her cry over. I’m going to make sure she’s alright.” He scowled at Remus, before swinging his bag over his shoulder and sprinting to catch up with Verity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello from the other side - I must've (tried to get this chapter finished) a thousand times.
> 
> Sorry for the delay, and for the fact this is so incredibly long, but I hope you enjoy!  
> This chapter took a lot of effort, and I'm still not 100% sure on it, so any feedback is welcome and appreciated.
> 
> As always, I'd like to remind you that kudos and comments are part of my 5 a day, and I will wither and die without them. Writer's scurvy - it's a killer.
> 
> Much love,  
> L♥ xx


	17. Three Red Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death of a childhood friend. Grief.

Sirius Black sat at the long Gryffindor table, a copy of the Daily Prophet propped against his pumpkin juice. Another day, another awful headline.

‘TWO DEAD IN HOME INVASION.’

The smiling faces of Eloise and Martin Fawley beamed up at him from the page – the stark contrast made him queasy. He had seen their children lead from the Hall not five minutes before. They were not the first, and certainly would not be the last.

He grunted, as James Potter kicked him hard in the shin.

“What was that for?” Scowling, he followed his friend’s line of sight, until it landed on the girl a few places down to his left. Verity Wilde picked at her eggs, her chin propped on her hand, with a scowl to match his own. The girls around her laughed and joked, as she slipped deeper and deeper in to her own thoughts. “What’s up with her?”

“I don’t know. It’s worrying me, a bit.” Murmured James, breaking off a piece of toast and popping it in to his mouth. “She’s been off since New Year’s.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with that again, mate, she isn’t going to tell you.”

“Why not? I don’t get what the big deal is. Clearly, they all did something stupid. We do stupid stuff all the time – wouldn’t we be the perfect people to tell?” He ignored Sirius’ snort of derision, and stabbed at his bacon. “She used to tell me everything.”

“Maybe it isn’t her secret to tell?”

“What do you mean?” James’ eyes narrowed. “Do you know?”

“No. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? If she tells you everything, and she won’t tell you this, maybe it isn’t her place.”

“At least the girls are speaking to her again.” James conceded, sighing as he pushed his plate away. He cast a dark glance at Remus, who was seated with Peter at the other end of the table. If he saw him, he pretended not to notice. James continued, tentatively. “She’s still having those dreams. Marlene told me.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too. You don’t think she’s a bit…cuckoo?”

“No. No, I don’t.” James stood, abruptly, ruffling his thick, raven-coloured hair. He raised his eyebrow at Sirius, who looked longingly at his sausages, before joining him in a huff. 

Some things, he had come to learn, were more important than breakfast.

***

“Ready to go?”

James held out his hand, helping Verity up from the table. It was their last breakfast before the February Half Term, and Verity was in a terrible mood.

“S’pose,” she grunted, shuffling her feet as she followed him from the Great Hall.

“Come on, True, chin up – it’s the holidays! No school for a whole week!”

“He’s right, you know.” Sirius Black had joined them, slinging an arm unceremoniously around both of their shoulders. “Sweet, sweet nothingness for nine days. I don’t know what to do first. James?”

“Ohh, I dunno – maybe, nothing?”

“Right, right – I was also thinking of doing nothing, with a side of…nothing?”

“Smashing. Could possibly throw a bit of nothing in there?”

“Oh, aren’t you spoiled for choice. So much to do, so little time.”

Verity held back a snort, as she cast Sirius a sideways glance. “You do know we have homework to f-“

“Do not speak of it!” The boy hissed, removing his arm and making a cross with his fingers.

“Told you – she’s in a proper mard today.”

“Oh, come on, Vezza! Don’t be a spoilsport - it’s not our fault Lupin’s giving you the cold shoulder.” 

James’ eyes widened, as he gave the universal motion for ‘cease and desist’. Unfortunately, it was too late. Verity’s already-awful mood plummeted.

Nothing had been the same since New Year’s Eve.

Sure, the girls had come around fairly quickly – once they had spent a few nail-biting weeks worrying that the wolf would escape the shack. Remus, however, was a different story. He acted as though Verity didn’t even exist.

He looked through her in the corridors, and refused to acknowledge her unless under direct order from a teacher. He left the House early and arrived back late, just so that they wouldn’t cross paths. On the odd occasion Verity tried to catch him out, he would spend his evenings in the library until Madame Pince kicked him out. 

Verity could not understand what had made him so upset. What had she done to make him hate her so much? Did he really not want to be friends with her any more, over some reckless behaviour? Was his moral compass so staunchly north that he could not abide what she had done?

It didn’t make sense, though. He still spoke to Marlene, Chandni and Lily, and made nice with the Ravenclaw girls in Charms. They had been there, too. Why was he treating her differently?

As she trudged along the corridors, like a small black storm cloud, images began to flicker through her mind. A snarling snout dripping with saliva and rage, advancing towards her on giant, clawed paws. It licked at its snow-white fangs, bared under folds of quivering skin. If Verity hadn’t known better, she would have thought they were face to face with a young, fawn-coloured wolf, hungry and protecting its territory.

Wolves didn’t have eyes like that, though.

“Do you mind?” 

She hadn’t noticed that she’d made it to the portrait hole, or that she was blocking it. Stood, silent and unblinking like a statue. Even the Fat Lady was giving her a strange look. Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, and allowed the fourth year to pass. Crossing the Common Room, she took the stairs two at a time, and packed a small rucksack. 

She couldn’t wait to get out of here, and put all of this behind her.

***

Half Term was trickling by like sand in an hour glass – slowly, and then all at once. It was the Wednesday before school started, and she had spent most of it trying to listen in on Order meetings at Thistle Hall. Keeping herself occupied was her only goal – as soon as she let her mind wander, it went to one of three places – her dreams, New Years Eve, or Remus. 

Through snippets of overheard conversations, and Moody’s no-nonsense attitude, Verity had pieced together thus;

People were still dying, and the Death Eaters were still at large. The Daily Prophet spoke of muggle home invasions and burglaries gone awry, but even Verity knew better than that. It was far too much of a coincidence – this string of deaths, in clusters up and down the country, all wizarding families…

All _Order_ families.

Alastor didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Poppycock.” He’d say, as he took another steady pull from his hip-flask. “Coincidence my arse.”

Alastor had been first on the scene for many of the attacks. His job as an Auror was proving incredibly useful to the Order, as of late. He was certain that the scorch marks on the walls and floors, and the distinctly sulphurous smell that hung thick in the air, had to be the work of wizards. 

Not that muggles would notice these kinds of things, of course. This left the Prophet open to spread misinformation, hoping to quell some of the panic they themselves had caused in the first place. It was a dangerous cycle – the public did not know what to believe.

Verity surreptitiously scanned the room – as always, on the look-out for clues. This particular meeting had ended some time ago. Various heads were bowed over newspapers, notebooks and old spell books, the silence punctured only by the turn of a page, or the barely audible murmur of quiet conversation.

Verity, Dorcas and Frank Longbottom sat in a corner of Thistle Hall’s ornate study, discussing their Transfiguration homework. They may not have been in the same classes, but they had all been set the same essay by their various Professors – a tedious two-roller on Switching Spells. Frank’s wheat coloured hair glimmered in the candle light, and his nose crinkled in annoyance.

“Blast.”

“Hmm?” Dorcas didn’t look up from her parchment, but she had stopped her furious scribbling.

“I’ve written and re-written this same sentence three times, but it sounds wrong. What’s another word for –“

Frank was cut off by the sound of the door as it swung open. Every eye in the room was trained on the entry, as Wynne’s stricken face stared back at them.

“The Thornes – they’ve been murdered.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, as Dorcas gripped Verity’s arm. 

Verity’s heart hurt. A dull ache, as it thumped through the numbness that now permeated her body. That particular pain was the only thing she really felt certain of – she couldn’t even feel the fingertips digging in to her skin now, leaving red half-moons scattered across her forearm.

Dead? That was absurd. They had only seen Vera a few days ago, she was fine. How could she be -

“What happened?” Asked Barnabas Longbottom, his face as grave as the news they had just received.

“Another ‘home invasion’.” Moody’s gravelly voice resonated behind the thick oak door, before he appeared, clutching the tiny hand of –

“Johnathon!” Whispered Nell, as she sped forwards and began to check him over for wounds. Ziba hid her horror behind her hand, with Abe stood solemnly at her side. A question teetered precariously upon the lips of every person present.

How had he survived?

The boy was pale and listless - his puffy blue eyes tinged with the unmistakeable hue of tragedy. He looked so very small, white knuckles clutching at Alastor’s hand, and a rather grim-looking stuffed rabbit. Beige fur that was once soft and dense, was crusty and thin with age, and had a fresh glistening of snot across the belly. He clung to it like a lifeline, the only constant in a world that was now upside down.

“Where’s my mummy?” His uncertain, wavering voice cut through the quiet.

Moody exchanged glances with Wynne, as Verity’s mother swept the child in to her arms. Scratching the back of his neck with a gnarled finger, his voice had a softer edge to it, as he addressed the woman huddled at his feet.

“We’re going to have to talk to him, Fenella.”

“Let him rest – please. He’s been through enough for one night.”

“You know I can’t do –“

“Where’s my mummy?”

“- that. If we don’t question him tonight, we might lose vital information.”

“What vital information are you going to get –“

“Where’s –“

“- out of a five year old child, _who has just lost his whole family_?” Though the last part was uttered softly, it was not quiet enough.

“Lost? Can we find them? I don’t know where mummy is, or daddy…or Vera. No one will tell me." Barely above a whisper, he continued. "I heard them screaming.” 

Fenella’s eyes prickled with tears, as she hugged the child closer to her chest. He seemed so fragile – delicate. Steeling herself, she took Johnathon by the shoulders, and stared stone-faced in to the throng.

“I’m going to speak to Johnathon now. Alastor - you’re welcome to join us, but you will let me handle it.”

“Fenella –“

“No.” They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but Fenella’s eyes spoke volumes. “John, can you follow me, darling? We need to have a little chat.” Taking the small, pudgy hand that was held out so willingly, she led him gently from the study. Alastor bowed his head, and followed shortly after. The room descended in to a miserable silence.

Frank sat with his hands clasped, and a vacant look in his eye – the look of someone who feels that they are intruding on a personal moment. His father spoke quietly with Abe, as Ziba pushed herself out of her seat, and swept towards her daughter, her arms outstretched. Vera had been one of Dorcas’ closest friends – and one of Verity’s, too.

Verity didn’t know what to do with herself. She watched, as her friend fell unceremoniously in to the warm embrace of her mother. Her tightly coiled curls bounced lightly as she sobbed, burying her face in to Ziba’s neck. A hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, and Verity found herself watching the sapphire ring as it made its journey round and round, using the rhythm to set a beat for her own disorganised thoughts. Ones that were still very distant.

She barely flinched at the hand that clasped her shoulder. Looking across, she saw long, dark fingers embedded in to her maroon cardigan.

“Are you alright, Verity?” Wynne’s eyes were blue today, which perfectly matched the feeling in the room. They were like teardrops below knitted brows, the latter creating lines in her perfectly smooth skin. Verity didn’t know how to answer her. _Was_ she alright?

“No.” A small voice piped up, from somewhere inside her. “Vera is dead. Someone _killed_ her. They killed her, and she isn’t coming back. I’ll never see her again. Johnathon will -”

It was that thought that broke her. _Johnathon_. How much had he seen? How much had he _heard_? She couldn’t even imagine how it would feel, to witness your family dying.

...will those screams stay with him forever?

Her own mother’s terrified squeals filled her head, and she fought to quieten them. She hoped she would never have to find out. 

It was a moment before Verity realised she was bawling in to Wynne’s chest – those comforting circles were being drawn on her back, now, and the smell of honey and cinnamon engulfed her like a swig of warm butterbeer. The rhythmic shushing felt infantile, but Verity allowed it, blocking out all other noise and focusing on the rocking. 

She cried for Vera, and her quiet, welcoming presence. Her quirks and oddities, that she had only just been starting to show off. Her soft, gentle voice – warm and cosy, like velvet. Never again would she see those deep blue eyes light up in triumph, as she managed to squeeze the last few words on to the end of a roll of parchment. She would never see her perfect that stupid Flipendo jinx that almost cost them their necks. She cried for Derek and Amelia. She remembered Derek’s proud face as he held his son up to the train window, and the way Amelia swiped at her eyes when she thought no one was looking. She cried for how utterly helpless they must have felt at the end, and how she knew they must have fought tooth and nail to survive. Not for themselves, but for their children.

She cried for Johnathon the most. 

Poor little Johnathon.

***

Alastor re-entered the study some time later, quiet except for the clunk of his wooden leg.

“How is he?” Asked Ziba, calmly.

“Sleeping.” Sighed Moody, as he sunk in to a low arm chair. “He’s had a hell of an ordeal.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“No. No, not really. There was a secret compartment under the bed for the children – Vera didn’t make it in time. From what we saw, though, she put up a bloody good fight.” A new wave of howling sobs broke free from Dorcas, as her mother guided her from the room. Alastor did not flinch. “She was face down on the bed, a chest of drawers blown to smithereens not two feet from her. Looked like someone had flown straight in to it. Not her, though – not a scratch on her.” He cleared his throat, eyes downcast as he took another gulp.

“Amelia? And Derek?” Abe took over the questioning now, his low voice gentle, but probing.

“One in the hall, one on the landing. It looks like Amelia tried to head them off before they could get upstairs, but Derek couldn’t leave the little ones. He was trying to give Vera time to hide, I think.”

Verity’s heart squeezed inside her chest. Frank gave her a sympathetic smile, looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Did you know Vera?” She asked, quietly.

“No, not really.”

“Oh.” Verity’s hands wrung, as she grasped for something to say. “She was such a wonderful person – school won’t be the same without her.

It was silent for a moment, before Frank said,

“I’ll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places, that this heart of mine embraces, all day through.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh – it’s something my nan used to sing. Billie Holiday – she’s a muggle singer, but my nan thought she was brilliant. It basically means, that people may be gone, but they live on in our memories.”

“Oh! Thanks Frank, that’s – that’s really sweet of you.” 

The awkward, lanky boy smiled at her, a pitying smile, which made Verity’s throat constrict a little more. 

“Frank? We’d best be heading off, your mum will be wondering where we are.” Gathering his things, Barney stood from his seat. He bid the two remaining men adieu, and strode to the door.

With his work safely stowed in his rucksack, Frank gave her a feeble wave, then followed his father from the room. Abe nursed a glass of whiskey by the fire, his profile awash with flickering gold. Alastor sat, pensive, in the chair opposite. The miserable silence descended upon them once more.

***

Verity stood, poised and ready, in the middle of the courtyard. She needed her full focus, if she was going to stand a chance.

Out of the whistling wind, she heard a voice roar, “Expelliarmus!”

Skittering to her left, she fired a shield charm, watching as the red jet glanced off the side. Wheeling round, her eyes locked with Moody’s – he was already firing off another spell.

“Stupe-“

“Flipendo!” He parried the jinx with a flick of his wrist, rolling out of sight behind the fountain. To her right, she saw movement, and threw up another shield charm, her heart thundering in her ears.

“Tarantallegra!” She yelled, stifling a giggle as the jinx found its target – Russell Lockett, dancing across the stones.

“Finite!” She heard him cry, as his legs stopped jigging. Diving behind one of the hedgerows, she let out a muffled shriek, as arms closed around her waist. “Relashio!”

Her spell was too weak. In a tumble of robes and hair, Verity and Wynne hit the ground. Gasping for breath, they untangled themselves, with Wynne rubbing at her wrist.

“That was a good try, Verity. Remember, the intention is just as important –“

“As the words – yeah, yeah, I know.” She grumbled, swiping a loose strand of hair from her mouth. Wynne gave her a knowing look.

“I know this isn’t exactly your idea of fun, but it’s important. You need to know how to protect yourself.”

“One skirmish in the garden isn’t going to fix that.”

“Oh, ever the pessimist, Verity.” Said Russ, airily, as he joined them. Alastor was not far behind, a genuine smile carved in to his gnarled features.

“Better. Much better.”

“Wynne got me, though.”

“Ah, but you fought us all off for a good few minutes there. Not many accomplished wizards could take on two Aurors and a Defence teacher. You should be proud, girl.”

“I’d still be dead.”

The three adults fell silent – the death of their comrades still fresh in their minds. She was right, there was no arguing that – but they could try their best to prepare her. That was all that they could do.

“How about we take a little break? We’ve been at this all morning, and I’d like to check on Johnathon.” Wynne’s kindly voice broke the tension, as she started to walk up the path towards the house.

“Alright. Half an hour to regroup, then we’re back at it. Verity leaves tomorrow, I want to make sure she’s had a thorough education.”

Once they were seated around the kitchen table, Russell pulled a dishevelled book from his briefcase.

“Thought you might find this interesting.” He said, as he chucked it to her. Catching it, she read the name on the cover.

‘A Life Eternal – Merlin.’

She flipped through the first few pages, before recognition dawned on her.

“Is this a book about immortality?”

“Supposedly. Some of them have been debunked – others, never tried. There are a few gems in there, though. Thought it would give you something to sink your teeth in to.”

Verity gave him an appreciative grin, as she rifled through page after page. Alastor watched her, with purplish smoke rising from his pipe in plumes.

“I reckon that’s what he’s up to, you know.”

“Who?” Asked Wynne, absently, as she sipped a fresh cup of coffee.

“Voldemort. We’ve had reports that he’s trying to acquire certain magical items. Seems very eager.”

Fenella, who was pottering by the stove, chuckled darkly.

“Well, if those reports are true, he’s going to have a hard time finding what he needs.”

“Why’s that?” Russell’s interest had piqued, as he regarded the woman across the room.

“Well, let’s just say, I’m not making his job easy for him.”

Verity shot her mother a quizzical look, momentarily discarding her gift.

“What do you mean, mum?”

“Oh, you know me, Verity. I’m always collecting odds and ends, aren’t I? I may have squirrelled away a few things over the years.” Her breezy tone did nothing to quell Verity’s curiosity, but she decided to keep her questions to herself – for now, anyway. She did not miss the glances shared between the four older wizards, as she busied herself with her new project.

Whatever her mother was talking about, she was sure she could find out on her own. She was getting rather good at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so sorry for the delay. This chapter was particularly hard to write. Not necessarily the words, but the content.
> 
> Feedback would be greatly appreciated, as always!
> 
> Hope you're all doing well,
> 
> L♥ xx


	18. Through the Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody has read 'the Dark Side of the Moon', I do apologise, but I've decided to take a slightly different tack 🤷🏼♀️

As Verity stepped on to the platform at King’s Cross, she was engulfed by a long pair of arms, wrapped in a thick, oat-coloured cardigan.

“I’m so sorry, True.”

Hints of his mother’s rose perfume still lingered on the wool that tickled Verity’s nose, as she breathed in deeply. After a tight squeeze, the boy held her at arm’s length, his gaze uncomfortably intense.

She knew what he was apologising for. It wasn’t just the loss of their close friend, the wound still fresh and stinging – it was the weeks of silence that preceded it. She shrugged lightly, giving him a small smile, that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s okay - I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I heard about - about Vera.” Verity felt her heart grow tight, as she fought to keep her expression passive. “I wonder how her little brother’s doing?”

“He’s doing okay – as well as can be expected, anyway. He’s safe, and that’s what matters.” Remus raised an eyebrow, and Verity could see that he desperately wanted to ask questions. She was thankful when he decided to keep them to himself – Johnathon’s situation was difficult to explain, even to those in the know. Instead, the boy let out a gust of air, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was a giant piece of dragon dung.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I was.”

“Well…maybe a bit, but honestly, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re talking to me again.”

“I shouldn’t have frozen you out, I just –“ He searched for the right words, his mouth scrunching and his eyes shut, as their parents carried on a loud conversation a few feet away. If not for their wandering eyes, Verity may have believed it was genuine. Remus sighed, running a hand over his scarred, weary visage. “There’s no excuse - I completely over-reacted. It won’t happen again, I promise. Friends should stick together, right?”

She took his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Remus Lupin. We’ll talk about this later, okay? Let’s go and find the others, they’re probably wondering where we are.”

She noticed James give her a quizzical look from further down the platform, before frowning at Remus. She rolled her eyes, her mouth quirking up at the corners, and shot him a discreet thumbs up. With a nod, he turned to Sirius, who waved enthusiastically, before being shoved up the steps of the train. Turning away from her two squabbling friends, she smiled at the boy standing hesitantly before her.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

***

The end of February, and the start of March, seemed to roll seamlessly in to one. Chilly nights turned to crisp mornings, and the first hints of spring began to peak through the thawing flowerbeds. A blur of lessons and Quidditch practice had kept Verity busy, along with her weekly visits to her Aunty Peg’s, and the increase in extra defence lessons with Russ. 

This may have been why, when Russ slammed a textbook on her desk one Thursday morning, she nearly fell out of her seat.

“Sleepy, are we, Miss Wilde?” The twinkle in her Professor’s green eyes made Verity roll hers skyward, as she grumbled and flipped him the bird behind his back.

Russ Lockett had become the equivalent to an annoying older brother, but she didn’t mind as much as she let on. In fact, she was very much looking forward to the next six years, annoying him in return.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have kept me out until eleven, eh? Some teacher you are.”

“You don’t seem to mind when you’re holding up the kitchens with your crime syndicate.”

“Touché. Honestly, I just think you’re boring.”

“I am not above removing points from Gryffindor.”

“Aye, of course, that’s why you’ve been dishing them out like sweets since September. This is the only class James and Sirius don’t lose points in.”

“Oi, we take offence to that!”

“Yeah, we’re model students.”

Russell, with a look of playful exasperation, cleared the blackboard with a flick of his wrist. As always, it began to take notes behind him. The happy-go-lucky, water-off-a-duck’s-back persona Verity was used to was suddenly very serious. His hands clasped behind his back, he began to pace – in that moment, he embodied Alastor Moody. It was rather unnerving.

“I’d like you all to turn to page 234. Before we start, I would like to make it very clear that, although I welcome and encourage a healthy debate in my classroom, I will be docking points for foul language or harmful behaviour. Keep it clean, please, and be respectful. You may learn something new.”

Intrigued, Verity rushed through the brittle pages. 

‘Werewolf Bites, and How to Treat Them.’

Almost instantaneously, her blood felt glacial, oozing under her skin as goose-pimples raced across her flesh like an icy wildfire. It was akin to being on a broomstick in January – numb fingers, dry throat, taut expression…uncontrollable shaking. Did Russell know?

No. Of course not. ‘Don’t be foolish, Verity,’ the young girl scolded herself. This is just an unfortunate part of the curriculum. She looked up and exchanged glances with Lily, who seemed to be experiencing the same inner turmoil. Did Lily know now, too? She was very smart. Verity wouldn’t be surprised if she’d knitted the pieces together. 

An eyebrow slanted in a silent attempt to glean information, but Lily turned back to her book, leaving Verity very confused. She’d have to corner Lils on her own later.

Whispers were undulating around the classroom, but it was very clear what was being said.

“Eurgh, _werewolves_? Gross! Can you imagine?”

“Poor things. I don’t think I could live like that, do you?”

“I heard they eat people whether it’s a full moon or not, like cannibals.”

“I heard they eat all their meat raw!”

“So disgusting.”

A bang resonated around the classroom, causing Florence Greer to shriek and throw her arms over her head. Professor Lockett faced the class like the eye of a hurricane, stoic amidst the chaos.

“Enough.” His voice was quiet, but there was no gentle edge. “Any questions you have will be answered by raising your hand. There is enough stigma surrounding this species without us adding to it with whispered speculation and unchecked prejudice.

Roland Everard raised his hand, a haughty expression on his rounded face.

“Werewolves are vermin, sir.”

Verity saw a muscle spasm in Russ’s jaw – very faintly, twinging against the surface of his skin. He adopted a kindly smile, leaning against his desk and using his hands for support.

“Vermin, Everard? What makes you say that?”

“Well - they’re evil?”

“I beg to differ – they are merely people who have an illness, who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“They prey on children, Professor! Babies!” Devika Varma piped up, shuddering.

“Not intentionally.”

“How do you know that, eh? How do we know they don’t know exactly what they’re doing? Maybe they want to hurt people.” Basil Griffin was pointing conspiratorially at Professor Lockett with his quill, looking rather pleased with himself. 

“Surely their nature would be based on what kind of person they were before the bite?” Chandni speculated.

“Yeah - shut up, Basil.” James shook his head, lobbing a piece of scrunched up parchment across the classroom. “Don’t be thick.”

“Lunacy would only affect them once a month, on the night of the full moon. I’m sure they are perfectly harmless most of the time.” Lily added.

‘Save it. I’m not thick, I’m thinking outside the box. You’re all softer than you look, if you think a werewolf would think twice about eating you.”

“You mean exactly the same soap box everyone else has been speaking from for the last thousand years or so? How original of you.” Verity bubbled over - she could not keep her mouth shut any longer. Years and years of conversations over the dinner table with her Aunty Mab had prepared her for this moment. “Werewolves get the worst rap out of every species. Even vampires and hags get a warmer welcome, and they _actually_ prey on children, they _choose_ to." She could feel her eyes prickling with injustice. "A werewolf's whole life is dogged by their illness – shut up, Sirius, not everything’s a pun. They find it difficult to work, socialise, marry – Merlin forbid, have children. A business has the right to refuse service or employment if their potential customer or employee is a known werewolf. Did you know, there is a werewolf registry, that is meant to protect and serve? Yet, all it does is make things even more difficult, because the Ministry can keep tabs on you and control your entire life?” Verity was standing now, white-knuckling her desk with clenched fists, as the words seethed between her teeth. “Did you know that it is still legal to hunt werewolves? There are clubs for it. Some of the more extreme factions hunt them _in their human form_. Men, women, children – they don’t discriminate, not about that anyway. Not only is the illness itself is horrific, but the rest of the world treats you like lycanthropy defines you – they treat you like _vermin_.” Her eyes bored holes in the side of Roland’s head, who was pointedly ignoring her. The class had descended in to an uncomfortable silence, with lots of muttering and disapproving looks. Russell, however, could not have been prouder.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Verity. Ten points to Gryffindor.” 

Verity felt a calloused hand grab hers, and squeeze. She had almost forgotten Remus was there, he had been so quiet.

“Are you alright? You’re looking a little nauseous.” He gave her a brief nod, and rested his head on her shoulder, doodling on the edge of his parchment. “We can go and terrorise Pomf after lunch if you're still feeling peaky?” She felt him nod again, and rested her head on top of his. She'd hate to be so poorly all the time.

“Now," Said Russell, with a clap of his hands, "let’s get back to the subject at hand, shall we? Werewolf bites – who are they biting?”

“People, obviously.” Scoffed Sirius, leaning back on his chair legs. James mimed clapping at him, which he accepted with a flourish of his hands.

“Clever, Mr Black, but let’s cut that down a bit. Is a werewolf more attracted to wizards, or muggles?” The class fell silent, with only Verity’s hand in the air. “Yes, Wilde?”

“Wizards?”

“Correct. Do you know why?”

“Professor Forfang said that muggles taste weird, and they are more likely to die from a bite. The werewolf instinct is to make more of their kind, as well as to hunt. It would be counterintuitive to attack muggles.”

“Precisely.” Behind him, the chalk added ‘muggles = gross’ to the diagram.

“See! I was right. Werewolves want to bite other people so they can make more of them!”

Chandni rounded on Basil, “I think you’ll find, that you questioned whether all werewolves want to _hurt_ others, and whether they know exactly what they’re doing – like they get a kick out of it. That’s very different than having a primal drive to increase their numbers. One could then speculate that this illness isn’t hereditary?” 

“Correct, Miss Noor – unfortunately, we do not have nearly enough evidence to corroborate those findings. There is not a single werewolf family on the register, and I highly doubt that there ever will be.” His pacing stopped as he took a breath, his expression pensive and guarded. “Not that I think they should be condemned to solitude, of course, but because it would be far too dangerous to out themselves in that manner. If they do exist, they are very well hidden, and for good reason.” Continuing to stride the length of his desk, he asked, “If a werewolf bites you, how do you treat it?”

“A salve of powdered silver and dittany will seal the wound, but there ain’t a cure.” Tadgh lowered his hand as he spoke, and Basil scoffed once more.

“Emerett Picardy said it’s better to bleed to death than accept help. You lose all sense of morality and become a giant, murderous brute once a month – who would want to live with that?”

Russell’s scowl was enough to make Verity’s hairs stand on end. “Let me be abundantly clear – anyone quoting Emerett Picardy, or any of his crackpot theories, will get a fail on their homework this week. His book, Lupine Lawlessness, has been debunked a thousand times over, and is nothing more than foolish, fear-mongering drivel. Stick to facts, please.” 

Shakily, Verity raised her hand. “Sir, what are the main differences between a wolf and a werewolf?” 

She had to be sure.

Russell gave her a quizzical look, “Well, their behaviour is a big giveaway – wolves are generally very placid unless provoked. Then you have the shorter snout, longer legs, tufted tail, and their eyes.”

“Eyes?”

“Yes, Vez. They keep their human eyes when they transform.”

***

Verity often found herself in the library with Franny and Dorcas this term. Lily and Chandni would join them occasionally - making sure to leave a seat open for their fallen friend.

Once, Peter had plopped himself down, completely unaware of the unspoken ritual, and the silence had been deafening. Even he, in all his bumbling obliviousness, had taken only moments to realise his mistake. With a sheepish nod, he had dragged a chair from another table, and had the decency to look apologetic.

It was the next day, a Friday evening. Verity sat, quietly flicking through the memoirs of Merlin, written in the form of each spell, charm and elixir he had found to extend his life. Her mind hummed as she poured over page after page, drinking in this new-found information with an insatiable hunger. 

Ambrosia, Amrita, Arsenic…Verity stifled a snort, as she considered the paradoxical use of an ingredient so deadly. It made absolutely no sense – then again, she was beginning to wonder whether magic made any sense at all. Here she was, a twelve year old, waving a glorified stick and making funny sparks fly out of the end of it. What was the point of all of it, if you couldn’t use it to cheat death with a flick of the wrist? She thought of Vera again, and her eyes prickled. It wasn’t fair.

Her thought process was cut short, by two pale, lean hands placing themselves over her eyes.

“Guess who?”

“I didn’t know they let Mountain Trolls in.”

“Oh, bore off!” Said Lily, as she removed her hands and placed them on her hips. “I shan’t tell you why I’m here now.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it was really important.”

“It is, actually. Thanks for keeping her occupied, girls. Are you ready?” Jewel-like eyes glittered mischievously, as Lily began to pack away Verity’s books. The Ravenclaws smirked and nodded, casting a surreptitious glance at the old librarian, before shouldering their rucksacks. 

Verity’s eyes narrowed. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” With a wink, the three girls sauntered ahead of her, leaving her utterly perplexed.

***

“Get in.” Said Lily, in a no-nonsense tone. She motioned towards the old mirror, her impatience showing in her tapping foot and crossed arms.

“No.”

“Why not?” Groaned Franny, as she leant against Dorcas and her pale eyes rolled skywards.

“What’s in there?”

“It won’t be a surprise if we tell you that.”

“Fine. If you’re leading me to my death, I’m haunting all of you.”

“Such a little ray of sunshine these days, aren’t you?”

“Always.” Scoffed Verity, as she took a last look around and stuck her foot through the liquid-like surface.

“SURPRISE!”

Six bellowing voices greeted her, as she stumbled down the candle-lit stairs. The warm, smiling faces of her friends beamed up in the welcoming glow, with James and Remus wearing matching golden party crowns. As she drew nearer, Sirius accosted her with a crown of her own, and handed her a sherbet lemonade. For this, she was grateful – she couldn’t stand pumpkin juice.

A crimson, three-tier cake, bedecked in miniature roaring lions, sat pride of place on a tired-looking trestle table. Her friends had managed to spruce it up somewhat, with an ancient maroon tablecloth and a few plates they had borrowed from the kitchens – Verity would have to remember to leave a ‘thank you note’ for the elves later on.

A banner, reading “Happy birthday, Remus, Verity and James!” in fancy gold script, had been neatly hung between the sconces, and Verity recognised Dorcas’ elegant handiwork immediately. Chandni had made the bunting, and the twirling balls of crinoline that hung from the ceiling – Marlene, of course, had provided the glitter ball, while Sirius had brought his trusty radio. She grinned at her friends, her first real smile in a long time.

“This is brilliant, thanks everyone.”

“The cheeky buggers managed to keep this well-hidden, didn’t they?” Laughed James, as he crushed her in a side-along hug.

“It was harder than you think.” Said Sirius, as he stuffed a cocktail sausage in his mouth.

“I almost blurted it out at breakfast the other day,” Chandni shook her head, giggling, “we’ve been planning this for weeks! Poor Remus, he must have thought he wasn’t getting a party.”

Verity smiled, as she remembered the night they had sat stuffing their face with chocolate and cake in his dorm room, only two weeks before. She had already given him his present – a small collection of H.P. Lovecraft books, and some new film for his camera. (She had been rather click-happy with it the term before, and knew he was running low.) 

He had been over the moon, stammering ‘thank you’s and ‘you really shouldn’t have’s as he gently tore through the wrapping. She’d never forget the way his whole face lit up, his eyes darting back and forth over the backs of every book, failing to hide his desire to get stuck-in. Thus, a night of story-telling had begun once more, with Verity acting out the more elaborate scenes and providing ridiculous sound-effects. It was perfectly ‘them’ – and in that moment, she had realised how much she had missed him.

She was brought back to the cavernous room with a clap on the shoulder from Peter Pettigrew, his round, boyish face smiling toothily up at her. She flushed, and looked away from Remus, who mimicked her movements and brought his glass of pumpkin juice to his lips, hiding the faintest of smiles. 

“Happy birthday, Vez!” Peter’s voice broke, whilst thrusting a badly-wrapped parcel in to her hands. Inside, she found an abundance of chocolate frogs and smirked to herself. Knowing Peter, he would be asking for all of the Witch and Wizard cards to add to his growing collection. Sneaky git.

“Thanks, Pete!”

“Verity, come dance with us!” Yelled Franny, twisting her hips to the beat. She and Dorcas cut odd shapes across the make-shift dancefloor, voguing with their hands and consumed by giggles. Lily, who had donned a pretty green dress for the occasion, was dancing with Chandni, while James and Sirius did a very out-of-place waltz.

Verity bopped and jived through the centre, her two left feet and shimmying shoulders reminding her very much of her father. She caught Remus chuckling at her and stuck out her tongue, beckoning him with her finger. He shook his head, his cheeks tinged pink. Pointing at his drink, he finished with a shrug, but knew Verity well enough that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Come on, birthday boy, you’re letting the side down!” She called, as she made her way over to his arm chair. She made a mental note to ask Sirius where he had procured this from.

“You know I don’t dance, True.”

“You dance with me?”

“Yeah, that’s different, though.”

“Why? Because James and Sirius aren’t there to make fun of you?” She teased, and he scowled back, kicking her lightly on the shin.

“Something like that.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t dance either!”

“I can see that.”

“Oi!” She howled, giving his shoulder a playful shove. He grinned, before jumping to his feet.

“I, um, got you something.” He said, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat. “Thing is, I didn’t know we were being kidnapped, so…it’s in the dorm. Fancy taking a walk with me?”

“Sure. Let me just grab James’ cloak, okay? I absolutely refuse to let Filch ruin our birthday party.”

With a smirk thrown over her shoulder, she slunk away, before being twirled by Sirius across the dance floor and into James’ arms, roaring with laughter.

Remus raised his glass to his lips with a shake of his head, wondering how he ever got so lucky to find a group of idiots like these.

***

The walk to the Gryffindor Tower was fairly uneventful. A few portraits had been left utterly bewildered, as disembodied voices carried out a rather loud conversation about the latest Charms assignment (The etymology of the ‘Diffindo’ Charm, and its origins. Ugh.) Tumbling in through the portrait hole, sans invisibility cloak, they crossed the common room looking as innocent as possible, and made their way towards the stairs. Mallory, the prefect, raised her head, and her eyebrow, as they passed, 

“What are you two up to? It’s past curfew now, you know…and…and that’s the _boys'_ stairs, Wilde!”

“We know!” They chorused, as they took the stairs two at a time and disappeared out of sight.

Swinging open his bedroom door with a clatter, Remus scurried towards his trunk and dropped to his knees, rifling through the contents. Chucking bits of scrap paper, worn books and a rather battered-looking ukulele across the floor, he appeared, triumphant, over the upturned lid of his trunk.

“Here.” He said, his complexion warming as he passed her two parcels. One was very small – about the size of a fifty pence piece. The other, was large and circular, and very, very thin. As Verity went to shake it, Remus laughed, “Careful, you wally, it’s fragile.”

Sheepishly, Verity opened it with a feather-light touch. It was a vinyl record, ‘You Are My Sunshine’ by Jimmie Davis. The girl beamed, hugging the present to her chest with her eyes tight shut.

“How did you know? You’re going to destroy my street cred, Remus, Sirius thinks I’m strictly rock and roll.”

“I wrote to your mum, asked her if there were any singles you really wanted for your collection. Apparently, this one is your favourite?"

She nodded feverishly, placing it gently upon the bed. “My nanny used to sing this to me when I was little – sometimes we still do, especially at Christmas. Athena plays piano, and nanny and I sing for everyone – we have a whole set list. James always makes fun of me for it, it’s so embarrassing.” Cringing, she covered her face, as Remus grinned.

Finding something to busy herself, she got to work on the smallest gift, her fingers shaking as she tried to pick through the tape. As she ripped a hole in the decorative paper, a golden chain began to spool out of it – the hole only stoppered by whatever pendant was still stuck inside the wrapping. She eased it out, and her heart jumped.

It was a locket. A beautiful, oblong locket, embellished with vines and flowers, with a side-opening clasp. The gold glinted in the dorm light, as Verity flipped it in her hands. Opening it, she giggled, seeing two sets of moving pictures. The first was Remus, waving at her with a shy grin, and the second was herself, tongue lolling and fingers holding her mouth wide.

“This is…this is so sweet, thanks Remus.”

As if startled, the boy jumped, throwing a palm to his forehead.

“I haven’t even told you what it does, sorry.”

“What it _does_?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s um, it’s a foe glass. A sneaky one.”

“What’s a foe glass?"

“Well, it’s a mirror that shows you if you’re in danger. If there’s any, uh, unsavoury characters close by, they’ll show up in the picture glass like a mirror. It’s really handy. I just figured, I can’t always keep you safe, and you won’t always listen to me, but at least you’ll know if there’s any danger lurking about with this around your neck.” Remus scratched the back of his own neck, looking like he felt a bit foolish. Verity looked at her friend, down to the locket, and back again, before planting the smallest kiss on his cheek.

“This is really thoughtful. Thank you.” Remus remained silent, his ears bright red and his mouth clamped shut. Verity had never seen his eyes so wide. Her own cheeks felt rather hot, as she averted her gaze, and caught sight of an inscription on the back.

“R.L, stay safe, I love you. V.L.”

“Remus…where did you get this?”

“It was my grandpa’s. My grandma bought it for him years ago, to keep him safe in the field. He was an Auror, you know?"

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’d been out working one of the Goblin Riots, and a Mountain Troll blind-sided him with his club – poor grandpa was in St Mungo’s for a week – his memory was never quite the same. Didn’t stop him from working, though,” Remus chuckled, “Health and safety wasn’t quite up to standard in those days, and grandma was constantly having kittens at home. She decided enough was enough, and bought him the locket. He wore it until the day he died, and then it was passed down to my dad.”

“Doesn’t your dad want this? I can imagine working with Boggarts and other spiritous apparitions is rather dangerous.”

“The foe glass doesn’t work on things like that, unfortunately…besides, mum and dad thought you should have it, if you’re going to be getting up to all sorts of hijinks in the middle of the night.”

“You told them?” Verity’s accusatory tone made Remus laugh.

“Maybe.” At this admission, the small girl whacked him with his pillow.

“Traitor.”

“Yeah, well, I may have been a bit grumpy over Half Term, and they wouldn’t drop it.”

Verity steeled herself.

“Remus…why were you so angry with me?”

Turning away from her, the boy began to pick at his tattered old comforter.

“I wasn’t angry. I was –“ Words seemed to have failed him, as he became particularly interested in a loose thread.

“You certainly seemed angry.”

“I know. I guess I was, a bit. I was more worried, than anything else. I didn’t really express myself very well, did I?”

“No. No, you didn’t, you barely expressed yourself at all. You know I wouldn’t purposefully put the other girls in danger, don’t you?”

“Of course. I know it wasn’t all your idea, either. I really took it out on you…why didn’t you tell Professor Dumbledore what happened, though?”

Verity’s eyebrow cocked, as she scrutinised him with a wary gaze.

“Tell him what?”

“What you saw…in there. You know, the shack. Lily told me, when she was trying to get me to talk to you again.”

Verity pondered this for a moment, tapping her finger against her lips. Then, she spoke slowly – carefully.

“Because…I think he already knows, and it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Remus froze, his fingers stopped niggling at the hole he had made, long enough for him to whisper.

“Who’s secret is it, then?”

“I don’t know, but I figured they probably didn’t want other people to find out.”

She smiled at him, as he threw her a bemused glance. As her eyes locked with his, she jumped, her breath hitching in her throat.

Of _course_. How could she have been this stupid? She knew exactly where she had seen those eyes before.

Now, everything made perfect sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi diddly ho neighborinos!
> 
> I'm not dead - in fact, I'm very much alive, and I'm here to bring you chapter 18.
> 
> Enjoi 🐼
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> (I am so VERY VERY sorry about the delay. Also, while you're waiting for me to get my ass in gear, please go and check out [carloabay's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay) series, starting with Gryffindor's Girl, and continuing with Ravenclaw's Regret. It's amazing, you won't regret it!)


	19. Milestones

“Verity?” Remus was met with crinkled brows and ghostly white skin, and eyes so wide they had their own gravitational pull. “Verity, are you alright?”

Gathering up her gifts with a squeak, she hopped off the bed, her mind audibly whirring as it began to fit the last few pieces of the jigsaw in to place.

Could it be?

She peered at him, as he sat awkwardly on the bed, smiling uncertainly at her.

Maybe she was being paranoid. His eyes were green, but so were Russell’s, and it certainly wasn’t _him_ in the haunted house that night.

Remus cleared his throat, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger.

“We should get back - the others will be wondering where we are.” Her voice crackled, her throat as dry as it had been on New Year’s Eve. Fear seeped through her veins, followed by a rash of goose-pimpled flesh.

Remus nodded, his face now blank. She knew she was being completely irrational. He gulped as he stood, his hand lingering as though he was going to reach for her, before falling flatly to his side.

“Is there anything you want to talk about before we go?” The tone of defeat made Verity’s heart sting. Did he know? Was she being too obvious?

‘That’s really all the confirmation you need, isn’t it?’ Said a nasty little whisper in her head. ‘If it wasn’t him, he wouldn’t look so worried.’

Giving herself a little shake, she set her shoulders, and mustered a smile. Holding out her hand, she pretended not to notice the quiet sigh of relief, as he took it in his own.

“No, no, I’m fine. I think New Year affected me more than I thought it did - what a wuss.” Her laugh was awkward and forced, and she kicked herself. 

Remus raised his bushy brow, but chose to keep his thoughts to himself. She wasn’t about to confront him, not tonight - she needed to do some fact-checking first. Fenella always said she had a wild imagination, and she wasn’t about to lose a friend over baseless accusations.

Plus, she needed to give her head a wobble – all that talk in Defence, but, as soon as she’s thrown in to the proverbial deep end, she cowers in terror? From Remus? The boy who folds his underwear and rescues spiders from the common room? Godric Gryffindor would be ashamed.

***

“Where have you two been?” Demanded Chandni, hands on hips, as they appeared through the surface of the mirror. She was swathed in blue and gold, her shalwar kameez glinting in the candle light, as she met them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah, we want cake! We’re withering away.” Pouted Sirius, before finishing off the last of the cocktail sausages.

“James has been practically delirious.” Said Marlene, in a stage-whisper. James swooned in the arm chair, a hand resting weakly over his forehead.

“It’s not even your birthday yet, Jim Jams, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“It’s on _Monday_.”

“Exactly, I’m not even sure you should be allowed cake.” Verity tapped her finger against her chin, ignoring the splutters of rage. “Shall we wrap him up a wee slice, lads? I’m sure it’ll keep over the weekend.” 

James’ lip curled in playful defiance, as he crossed the room and stuck his hand in to the side of the cake, (sending the miniature lions in to a mad panic,) and stuffed the contents of his fist in to his face.

“Lovely, I’m sure no one else wanted any anyway.” Lily’s nose wrinkled in disgust, passing him a napkin to mop up the crumbs. 

Verity spotted the surreptitious quirk of her lips, and the blush that bloomed like watercolours upon her freckled cheeks. She looked back at her oldest friend, now squashing cake in to Peter’s hair, incredibly confused.

She had no idea what Lily saw in him, he was completely _gross_.

***

“Let’s play spin the wand, this is boring.” Moaned Sirius, slumping back against the arm chair that he had somehow commandeered.

“I’m not kissing any of you lot.” Said Dorcas, looking very much like a cat that had tasted something terrible.

“How about Truth or Dare instead?”

“I’m with Fran, and I agree with Dorcas. I’m not locking lips with any of you uggos.”

“Oi, rude!”

“Yeah, Potter, don’t be rude. I doubt anyone wants to kiss a toad anyway.”

“Ahh, come on, Evans, I could be the prince you’re looking for.” Thick, black brows waggled at her from across the loosely formed circle, causing her to scoff. Pointing her wand lazily at him, she muttered,

“Rictusempra.”

“S-stop, please! N-no more...I c-can’t!” He gasped, tears of mirth streaming down his face, as he rolled around on the floor.

“Tickles – his only weakness.” Snorted Verity, as she shifted in her seat – she could feel her bum going numb. The large, plush pillows that were scattered on the floor were only comfortable for so long. “So, Truth or Dare, then? Who’s going first?”

***

“You can’t make him do this, Sirius.”

“Watch me,” said the boy, flipping dark hair from his eyes with a smirk.

“He’ll be caught, you know.” Muttered Remus, trying desperately to be the voice of reason, as James stuffed a helmet on to Peter’s head. He clanked as he shuffled awkwardly in a circle, lifting his visor with great difficulty.

“How…do I look?” He wheezed, the weight of the armour making it difficult to breathe. Remus took pity on him, murmuring the feather-light charm and watching as the beleaguered boy grew an inch or two. 

Mopping beads of sweat from his brow, he was flanked, quite suddenly, by James and Sirius, who each slung an arm around his shoulders.

‘Your mission,”

“Which you have chosen to accept,”

“No backsies!” Hollered Fran, from the safety of the cushions.

“Is to take a lap of the fourth floor,”

“While singing the school anthem.”

“Oh, yeah! Can’t forget that bit.”

“That’s the most important part.”

Remus buried his head in his hands with a muffled groan, although Verity could see him hiding a grin.

“Your lookouts are Verity, Marlene, Sirius, and myself, of course.” Swaggered James, his arm stretched towards the imaginary diagram he had been sketching with his fingers. Peter nodded, the visor clanging shut, as he stumped off towards the staircase.

As Verity made to follow him, giggling arm in arm with Marlene, Remus called out to her from his seat in the corner.

“Got your locket?” Verity nodded, ignoring Marlene’s knowing smirk, as she carried on without her. Pulling the chain out of her pocket, she handed it to Remus, and turned around. His hands were surprisingly gentle, as he moved her hair and fiddled with the clasp. “It’ll come in handy – you’ll see Filch before he sees you.”

“Thanks.”

With a smile, he sent her on her way, as little fireflies crept up her neck and nestled on her cheeks. This was turning out to be a rather good party, and a wonderful distraction.

***

“Ready?”

“All clear.”

Peter stuck one iron foot out of the mirror, the resulting clang echoing through the halls. Wincing, the rest of his body followed, crashing and banging as metal met metal.

“He’s going to get caught before he even makes it round the corner.” Muttered Dorcas, as Fran snickered in to her shoulder.

Steeling himself, Peter set his shoulders, and began to march.

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts…”

Verity muted her sniggers with the sleeve of her robe, as he jangled his way towards her.

“Whether we be old and bald…or young with scabby knees!” He shrilled, the noise of his steps only punctuated by the roars of laughter from his two dorm mates that resonated through the halls. Verity groaned – if the clanking of the armour didn’t get them caught, then the boys sure would.

“- full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us…”

Verity snapped open the locket, and saw peculiar shadows flickering against the glass. Frowning, Verity looked up, her head roving left, then right. Nothing – yet.

“- what we’ve forgot!” 

The pictures behind the glass were starting to fade now, and the shadows were becoming more like one solid silhouette.

“Peter.”

“- do your best, we’ll do…”

“ _Peter_.”

“- the rest, and…”

“Peter!”

“- until our brains all rot!”

With a triumphant grin, he removed his helmet, and came face to face with Verity.

“Peter, you mollusc, RUN.”

A distant war cry of ‘students out of bed’ confirmed her suspicions, as the now-redundant locket jolted against her chest. The skittering and squealing of footsteps meant that her three friends were not far behind, as she dragged a clattering Peter through the mirror. Marlene hopped in shortly after, followed by James and Sirius simultaneously – Verity assumed that the former had tackled the latter. The giggling heap moved as one, as they all began to untangle themselves.

“Poor Filch, he must think he’s going mental.”

“He probably thinks the fourth floor’s got a new poltergeist.” Said Chandni, as Verity and Marlene swanned down the stairs, bathed in the glow of victory. James and Sirius were still yanking on Peter’s armour, their faces screwed in concentration.

“Who’s turn was it next?”

“I hadn’t decided yet!” Rasped Peter, as James tried to pull a breast plate over his head.

“Hurry _up_ , we haven’t got all night.” Groaned Dorcas, propping herself up with her hands.

‘Fine – Remus, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” 

The answer was quick, almost too quick – Verity added this to her growing list of reasons as to why she may not be clinically insane, and that her best friend may indeed be a creature of the night, controlled by the moon and driven mad by bloodlust.

She didn’t have long to mull it over, though – Peter had other ideas.

“I dare you to kiss Verity.”

There was a collective ‘ewww’ from the group, as Remus turned the colour of his knitted jumper. Verity coughed, loudly, as a bubble got caught in her throat.

“Pick something else, that’s not fair.” Grumbled Remus, head down as he picked at his shoes.

“That’s not _fair_.” Mimicked Sirius, as he plonked himself down next to Verity. “Life ain’t fair, mate – pucker up.”

“Yeah, come on, Lupin - she isn’t that ugly.” Giggled Chandni, as Verity elbowed her in the ribs.

“Ooo! Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Trilled Franny, clapping her hands whilst a wicked smile played upon her face.

Verity could feel her blush deepening, as she and Remus locked eyes from across the circle.

“Look, he clearly doesn’t want to. Let him do a forfeit.”

“You’re not getting out of it that easily, Vezza.” Said Sirius, grinning like a dog with a rather large bone. “This is quality entertainment.”

“Don’t be gross, Sirius.” Sniffed Lily, but didn’t make any other moves to defend her friend. This earnt her a scowl, which she parried with a wide, toothy grin.

James had remained silent, with an odd expression colouring his features. His brow was raised, and his mouth was set in a firm line. He looked between Verity and Remus, his face unfathomable. Clearly, he would be no help, either.

“A pox, a pox on all your houses.” Growled Verity, as she squared her shoulders and tried to ignore her pounding heart, which seemed to want to escape the situation as much as she did. She couldn’t quite figure out if this was because of the mortifying scene she found herself in, or, if it was because her first real kiss was going to be with a suspected werewolf.

Neither seemed hugely appealing.

With a sigh of defeat, Verity lurched forwards, grabbed Remus by the cheeks, and smushed their lips together. Remus’ eyes burst open, as Verity’s heart thundered in her ears, and they parted with a wet ‘pop’. 

If she was being honest, it wasn’t how she had pictured it. Her first proper kiss, of course. Not with Remus. Her blush deepened, as she corrected herself. 

Remus touched a finger to his lips, his brows having rocketed to his hairline, looking a little dazed. Verity wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve and grinned, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.

James cleared his throat, with a revolted look on his face. “That’s quite enough of _that_. Who’s next?”

“What’s up, Potty? Never seen anyone kiss before?” Giggled Lily, nudging him with her elbow.

“Kissing is gross. Plus, Verity isn’t allowed to date until she’s at least fifty.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Remus squeaked, sounding very much like Peter when he had been caught out.

“It’s just a game, James, grow up.” Verity managed to capture the exact tone of an eye-roll in her voice, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Remus, who’s next?”

“Um…er, Dorcas?”

“Excellent. Dare.”

***

As she lay under the covers that night, listening to the soft breaths (and grunting snores) of her dorm mates, her mind raced. 

Was it him? The wolf in the shack? Whatever way she looked at it, the evidence was rather damning. 

Every month, like clockwork, he had something crop up – his mum was poorly, his grandma had passed away, his uncle was getting married…but there was never any explanation as to why he was allowed to leave at the drop of a hat - other students had missed weddings and funerals that fell within term-time, and had to wait until the holidays to visit sickly parents. Or, why he always came back with a new scar, or a noticeable limp. Or, why he had been allowed so much time off of school. 

Wracking her brain, she realised there was a very simple way to check, if he was, indeed, a werewolf. Picking up her diary, the page fell open, and her eyes were immediately re-directed to the lunar phases printed in the top corner.

Verity’s mind had slowed, as if staring, once again, at the jigsaw of a familiar picture, but being hesitant to finish it. Cautiously, with an odd sensation bubbling in the pit of her stomach, she flipped back through the pages to the month before.

“February 30th,  
Remus has gone home again. His poor mum, I feel awful for her…” 

Scanning the next few pages, she stopped at,

“…and, Remus is finally back at school! I think his mum must have had a bug, because he’s looking a wee bit peaky. I hope it’s not contagious…”

January 30th was much the same,

“Remus still isn’t talking to me. James said he’s gone up to the hospital wing for a little R&R…”

Twittering to herself, she arrived at December 31st.

“…I never got a reply from Remus, and I couldn’t find him on the train. Sirius told me his stuff turned up in the dorms, but he hasn’t seen him at all! So odd. I wonder if you can send your luggage on ahead? I can’t imagine there’s an owl big enough to lug a heavy trunk…”

December 2nd,

“…and then, Remus received another letter from home. His grandma has died! I feel like I’ve got déjà vu, because I’m pretty sure his grandma died last month, but I didn’t want to question it. How terrible would I feel if I was wrong?”

Sure enough, in the entry for November 2nd,

“…Remus’ grandma has died! How awful! He didn’t seem to be too phased by it, but I’d be absolutely heartbroken. I think he must have been keeping it quiet for a while, because it would explain why he looked so off on Halloween…”

She remembered how battered he was when he had turned up at school on the following Friday. There was no explanation, and no mention of a funeral. She had seen the uncertainty in Peter’s eyes, and the questions behind Chandni’s, as he’d plopped himself down at breakfast.

James had piled his plate full of food, shooting him worried glances as he kept topping up his cup with pumpkin juice. Nobody asked questions – they didn’t know how. Remus had seemed so ashamed, head down and painfully quiet. When he’d caught her looking at his wrist in Potions, he’d avoided her for the rest of the day…

Verity was feeling decidedly nauseous. She kept going, unable to believe what was right in front of her. It could all be a coincidence, right? The fact that every single incident fell around a full moon didn’t _necessarily_ mean…

Giving her head a little shake, she read the entry for October 4th.

“…Remus is off school again. Apparently, he won’t be back until the end of the week? His Uncle Earl is getting married…I think I’m going to take notes for him, or at least get a copy of Lily's - he hates to get behind. James said…”

Steeling herself, she continued on, if only to confirm her suspicions. 

For two weeks out of every month, Remus was ill, then at home or in the hospital wing, and then off school. It was an undeniable pattern.

She considered, again, that his mother may have some kind of blood malediction, and had passed it on to Remus, but that wouldn’t necessarily explain his increasing number of injuries. It wouldn’t necessarily explain his shame, or his inability to say one kind thing about himself, either. For all his brilliance, he was rather self-deprecating, and refused to ask for help. 

Not to mention the fact that Hope was a muggle, so it would be highly unlikely.

Verity thought of his parents, whose faces were careworn, and clothes were patched and frayed – they still held an element of class, like garments well-loved, but worn to breaking point. Remus, too, had jeans that were slightly too short, and patched at the knees, and hand-me-down jumpers of his father’s. 

His briefcase was, as far as Verity could tell, one of his only new possessions, and he cherished it. James and Sirius often made fun of him, for how upset he was if anyone dared to put a drink near it – or, Merlin forbid, _on_ it. 

From what Remus had said, they had moved around a lot, too, and never settled anywhere for too long…

The more Verity thought, the harder it became to explain it away. The clock ticked well in to the small hours, as she examined the evidence from every angle. By sunrise, she even had a sneaking suspicion that her own mother knew.

"It wouldn’t be that unreasonable, would it?" She pondered.

Fenella was a dab-hand at healing potions, and could whip up a powdered dittany and silver salve in her sleep. If Lyall and Hope needed to procure medicine on the down-low, surely her mother would be the obvious choice? They were old friends, and knew her mother would be discreet. 

Was that why her mother had introduced them at Flourish and Blotts? Had she felt sorry for him?

As all these thoughts rushed through her mind, she was once again confronted by the snarling beast that she had faced in the shack. 

Muscles rippled under wiry, brown fur. Claws clacked across a wooden floor, as the rumbling from the hellhound’s swelling chest grew louder – closer. Her eyes snapped shut, as she shivered – the image of those haunting green eyes so very clear in her mind’s eye.

Along with this nightmarish moving picture, came the stigma she had so vehemently denounced.

'Werewolves are evil – inhuman - _vermin_.’

‘Violence is in their nature, they don’t deserve the same respect!’

‘I heard they eat people whether it’s a full moon or not, like cannibals.'

‘Baby-killers! Preying on children for sport!'

'They shouldn’t be on the ‘Beings’ list, they’re Beasts of burden!'

‘it’s better to bleed to death than accept help.'

Mulling all of this over, she drifted in to a fitful sleep, unsure of what to make of her newfound knowledge.

***

Dazed and confused, Verity dragged herself out of bed with a groan. She felt as though she had been clubbed over the head by a mountain troll, and didn’t look much better. Applying a quick tidying charm, she fixed her hair and shrugged on her dungarees, yawning as she stumped down the stairs.

“Christ, Wilde. You look like death!” The charming voice of James Potter called across the common room. She flumped on to the sofa, resting her head on the arm,

“You’ll look like death in a minute, when I fling you out of the window. Go away, let me die in peace.” She whined, sleepily.

The sofa next to her sunk slightly,

“Here, you look like you need this more than me.” 

Verity froze, before peeking up in to the warm, welcoming eyes of her best friend. Paired with a friendly, lop-sided grin and a nugget of caramel chocolate, she felt an instant calm wash over her - followed by a flood of guilt. 

How could she have even entertained any of those horrible, nasty thoughts? 

As far as she knew, Remus had been this way since long before she knew him; hadn’t he already proven all those naysayers wrong, just by being himself? This boy, with a heart of gold, whose only flaw seemed to be that he was _too nice_ , and that he was a bit of a goody-two-shoes? 

A deep sense of shame crept through her body, and she involuntarily flung her arms around him. Remus would always be Remus, regardless of his _moon-thly_ activities.

She squeezed him tight, berating herself. He could never, ever know that she had felt that way; she felt like the worst friend. 

Remus chuckled in to her shoulder, “What’s this for?”

Verity pulled away, inwardly cringing. She couldn’t just blurt it out in front of the whole common room, could she?

“Erm, it’s nice to see you? Can’t a friend hug another friend?” She rambled, not quite meeting his eye. She may have figured out his secret, but she didn’t want him to know that. Not yet.

Eyebrow raised, he silently handed her the chocolate, choosing not to press the matter. James and Sirius had taken this opportunity to re-enact their moment, flinging themselves at each other to girlish shrieks of,

“Remus! I missed you _sooooo_ much!”

Verity stuck her tongue out at them, feeling the heat rise in her face. She'd get them back later, but, for now, she was more worried about making it to breakfast on time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hngggg it is SO CLOSE to the end, I can't believe it!
> 
> So, big drams in this chapter. MAJOR. Reems is a werewolf *le shock*, there's a KISS, and a few other easter eggs in here for you to harvest all by yourselves.
> 
> Have fun, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Please comment and kudos if you can, it lets me know I'm going in the right direction.
> 
> Much love and birthday cake,
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> (ALSO, I am taking DSotM down now, as I have included the majority of it in this chapter. Peace ✌️)


	20. The Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I have taken out a paragraph at the end of the Gobstones sequence and changed things up a bit! I feel like it reads more authentically like this :)

Silence.

Silence - except for muted, ragged breaths, and the cantering, erratic beats of a heart, fighting to break free of its skeletal restraints. 

A wild horse, evading capture. A jackrabbit, darting across an open field. A gazelle, making its final sprint across the Savannah.

The air seared her tired lungs - a sharp reminder that, although she was hidden, she was not safe. Billowing clouds rose from her lips, and in to the bitter night. Behind her, the sound of dirt grinding beneath the sole of a shoe alerted her to her father’s presence, followed by the snap of a twig. He winced, as the crack reverberated through the woods like a gunshot.

“Sorry.” He muttered, as he tried to ignore the burning in his legs. They had been crouched for nearly an hour now, waiting.

Verity shook. Hot tears stung her cheeks, and her eyes prickled from the salt. The silence engulfed her - overwhelming her. Racking sobs bounced inside her chest, as if trying to break down a particularly heavy door. 

It seemed so jarring, the lack of noise. 

The forest had been alive with war cries and colour. Dry leaves from the summer heat had burst in to flames, as curses sliced through the trees above. Animals chittered and screamed, as their homes were torn apart – the duelling wizards paying no mind to whose territories they were invading. The duelling itself had sounded akin to a tennis match – the grunting and yawping, mustering up the energy to parry a serve. The only difference was the sadistic laughter, which seemed to increase each time a particularly nasty spell found its target.

A scan of her surroundings told her she was near Cauldron Falls, a short trek from the cottage. Her and her father had bunkered down in a thicket, too dense to see through with the naked eye. Verity, however, was not convinced. One rogue Incendio charm, and the place would go up in flames.

“Dad?” Her voice sounded unnatural, as it crackled through the quiet. “Dad? We need to get behind the waterfall.”

***

“Quills down, please…yes, that means you, too, Miss Wilde.”

Exam season had come around all too quickly. Scribbling the last few points on to the bottom of her parchment, Verity flung her quill down in triumph. It was the last exam before the holidays, and she could practically taste freedom. She skimmed her conclusion on the Avifors spell, discarding it before she had reached the bottom – no point dwelling on it, was there? It was in the Mother’s hands, now.

As she looked around, she caught James’ eye, and he pulled the most grotesque face he could muster. Lily tutted, swishing her hair over her shoulder with a repulsed expression. Verity sniggered, before casting her eyes surreptitiously around the room. 

The Great Hall looked very different during exam season – rows upon rows of singular desks stood in columns, occupied by first years from all the four houses. Professor Switch, a member of the Transfiguration department, was keeping an eye on the exam papers, soaring across the room and landing neatly upon her desk. She paid no mind to the children, as they packed away their things.

“Lake?” Marlene mouthed, wiggling her brows for comedic effect.

Nodding, Verity grinned, her chin now resting in the palm of her hand. She could see Chandni nervously pouring over three rolls of parchment before they were whisked away, chuntering under her breath. Her inky hair pooled over her desk like delicate scribbles, the sound of it scratching faintly through the rising chatter. Chairs began to scrape, and Verity felt someone stop beside her, as students started to filter from the Hall.

“Ready?”

Shoving her pencil case back in to her satchel, she stood, cringing as the chair legs squeaked in protest.

“Yup. We’re meeting Marlene and the girls at the lake.” Looking around, she spotted a mousey boy nimbly rooting his way through the crowd. “Oi, Petey! Lake in 10 - meet us at the birch.”

His response was swallowed by a tide of children surging through the double doors. She spotted Sirius giving her the thumbs up, grabbing James’s elbow as they spilled in to the hallway. Shouldering her bag, she took Remus’ hand, and tugged him towards the exit.

It was here that she found herself, shoulder to shoulder, with Tadgh McCarthy. Blushing, she raised her eyes to the ceiling, praying that he wouldn’t notice. Absently, she worried about her hair, wondering if it was doing that awful, frizzy thing it usually did when she had been running her hands through it. Exam stress was not glamorous at all.

“Alright there, Wildey? What’s the craic?”

Damn. “Um, not bad – oof! – I guess? I could have written more for the etymology part, but I think I covered the breakdown and the origins pretty well.” She squeaked as someone stood on her foot, and ignored Remus’ shaking shoulders – he could laugh, she’d get him back later. “How about you?”

“Pretty sure I forgot the counter-charm, but other than that, I’m grand. No point worrying now, eh? ‘Tis what it is.” He grinned down at her with a mouth full of perfect teeth, and her heart did a little somersault.

“Um, yeah, I completely agree.” 

The other students had dispersed, leaving the three tweens alone in the corridor. Remus looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, checking his watch and taking a rather profound interest in the surrounding portraits. 

Rocking on his heels, Tadgh raised his eyebrows, his mouth set in an awkward smile. “So, are ya up to much later?”

“Well, we haven’t really planned that far ahead – knowing Potter and Black, probably something stupid. How come?”

“Ha, you’re not wrong there – any opportunity, eh?” He chuckled as he shook his head. “The lads and I are gonna do a Gobstones tournament in the Common Room, didn’t know if ya fancied it?”

“Ooo, you’re good at Gobstones, aren’t you, Remus?” Said Verity, turning to her friend with a proud grin. He blushed, shrugging lightly.

“I’m not bad, I guess.”

Turning back to Tadgh, Verity beamed, “We’ll be there – sign Peter up too, please. He’s in the club, he’d be gutted if he didn’t have a chance to flex on you all.”

“Aren’t you going to play?”

“Nah, I’m pure shite at Gobstones – I’m nae clown, you can find another entertainer.” 

Tadgh chuckled at her as she winked – poorly. “See ya later, then?”

“Catch ya on the flip side.”

***

Verity wondered if this was how Archimedes felt, sunning himself in the little sun-traps throughout the forest. Her legs flipped languidly in the breeze, as the warmth permeated through the earth and in to her belly. She was cloaked in gold, sprawled across the grass, with her arms folded underneath her chin. A light breeze lifted the baby hairs around her face, tickling her rounded, youthful cheeks. She could feel herself becoming drowsy, as eyelashes fluttered against her skin – a side-effect of a restless night.

“What did you lot put for question three?” Lily’s nervous voice cut through the quiet, and Verity heard James groan to her left.

“Not now, Evans - we’re _relaxing_.”

“I wasn’t asking you, was I?”

“I think I speak for the group, when I say – shut up, you big nerd.”

A growl and a pop later, and James was thrashing on the ground, giggling.

“Apologise.” Said the redhead, curtly.

“S-stop!”

“Say you’re sorry, and that you’re a toad.”

“I’m s-sorry!”

“And?”

“A-and, I’m..I’m a t-toad! A g-giant, slimy t-toad!” He wheezed. 

Muttering the counter-curse, Lily smirked as James breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lily?”

“Yes?”

“You’re scary when you’re mad.”

A comfortable silence descended once more. Fairies and dragon flies gambolled overhead, riding zephyr upon zephyr as they undulated through the sky. Marlene shielded her eyes with her forearm, cloud-watching with Sirius and Peter. So far, she was winning – she’d found a cat, a gnome, and a hag in a tatty old cloak. 

“Have you guys got anything fun planned for the holidays?”

“Not particularly,” Drawled Sirius, an ankle cocked over his knee, with his arms folded behind his head. His pointed hat was tipped low over his face, shielding his eyes from the glare. 

“What do you mean? You’re coming to mine for a bit, aren’t you?” James sounded reproachful, chucking a handful of grass at his partner in crime.

“What, really?”

“Yeah, really. If we time it right, we can terrorise Vez as well.”

“Ha _ha_ , very funny.”

“Sold. Sleep with one eye open, Trudy.”

“I won’t have to, you clumsy oaf - I’ll hear you coming from a mile off.”

“She has a point, Sirius.”

“You stay out of this, Remus. You won’t be there to defend her honour.”

“True doesn’t need anyone to defend her – if you want to get on the wrong side of a bat bogey hex, that’s up to you.”

Cracking one eye open, Verity beamed at Remus, who ruffled her hair, while Sirius made vomit noises in the background.

“What about you lot?” She asked, as she re-adjusted her glasses. They had been cutting in to her skin, leaving little red welts on the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, I dunno,” murmured Lily, putting the finishing touches on her daisy chain. “I’ll probably spend most of it at the park with Sev – there isn’t really a lot to do in Cokeworth.” She sounded glum, as she placed the floral crown upon her head. With the light passing through her scarlet hair, she looked ethereal. 

James was watching her out of the corner of his eye, a small smile twitching at his lips. He absently ran a hand through his hair, smirking as he propped himself up on his palms.

“Maybe we could all meet up? I’m sure mum wouldn’t mind having people over.”

“Ooo, are we all going to get a look at Potter Manor?” Teased Marlene, sticking her snub nose in the air.

“No, sorry Marls, we don’t allow peasants.”

“Oi! Cheeky!”

“You make it too easy, McKinnon.” Sirius’ bark of laughter was cut short by an ‘oof’, as Marlene’s copy of ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration’ landed heavily on his chest.

“Clearly, I’m not the only one.”

“That’s not fair, I wasn’t ready!” Sirius pouted, rubbing his sternum.

“Sucks to be you, then, doesn’t it?” A cackle, followed by a scream, told Verity that Marlene may have taken it too far. She bounced across the grass, shrieking and giggling, as Sirius gave chase.

“Oh no, what’s she done this time?” Lucinda Talkalot plopped herself down next to Remus, followed by Emmeline Vance.

“Bruised his ego.” Said Chandni, with a smirk. Remus offered her a discreet high-five.

“Oh dear.” 

“Yeah, not her smartest move,” Verity snickered. Casting her gaze over the lawn, she rolled on her back and asked, “Does anyone know what time it is? I don’t want to miss lunch, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Vez.”

“You’re not wrong. I’m so hungry, I could eat the giant squid.”

With a lot of grumbles and groans, the group peeled themselves off of the sun-baked ground and clambered to their feet. James whistled Sirius like a dog on the park, and Marlene gave him a wide berth as they re-joined their friends. They began the short walk back to the castle, fantasising about what they were having for lunch, and doubling down on their plans for the Summer.

Metres away, bubbles rippled against the surface of the lake. Apparently, squid was not on the menu.

***

The Gryffindor Common Room was unusually quiet. The tournament had been going on for some time now, and the air was thick with tension. Ten boards had been whittled down to two, and students crowded the four players, whispering words of encouragement in their ears.

Verity stood at Remus’ side, watching as he lined up his next shot. Celeste Cullen had got him ‘snookered’, so to speak. Across the way, Tadgh was caught in a particularly intense battle with Osias Owusu from Dorm Two.

James had his hands on Remus’ shoulders, while Peter bit his nails. He’d been kicked out in the fourth round – obliterated by Basil Griffin, much to everyone’s annoyance. How sweet it had been, when Remus’ Gobstone had squirted putrid goo straight in to Basil’s mouth a round later.

‘That’ll teach you, you horrible bigot,’ thought Verity, as the boy tried to clean his tongue with his sleeve.

She felt Remus shift next to her, and reverted her attention back to the game. James muttered out of the corner of his mouth, giving useless instructions, like a back-seat driver who hadn’t yet acquired their license. Remus’ eyes clamped shut, and squeezed.

“James, leave him alone, he needs to concentrate.”

“Yeah, but if he just does _this_ -“

“Haud yer wheesht - he knows what he’s doing.”

“Haudin’ ma wheesht.”

Verity stuck out her tongue, before whispering to her friend,

“So – what’s your game plan?”

Holding up a stone marble, he sighed, “I need to hop _this_ over _there_ …”

Celeste smiled vaguely, rolling her remaining pieces around in her hand. “No one will think any less of you if you forfeit, Remus.”

“That’s quite alright, Celly. I’m planning on destroying you - I hope you don’t mind.”

‘All’s fair in Gobstones and War.” She sniffed.

After a blistering defeat, Celeste sat sulking on the stairs, drowning her sorrows in a bottle of Merry Cherry pop. If that didn’t put a pep in her step, nothing would. 

Verity supressed a giggle – Remus’ hands were now clasped behind his back, and his eyes followed every movement, as he paced the outskirts of the remaining match. The crinkles on his forehead deepened from time to time, committing his opponent’s tactics to memory. He was taking this very seriously – but, Verity had come to realise that, when it comes to board games, Remus Lupin takes no prisoners. 

Oz held out his hand, resigning with dignity, as Tadgh took the last remaining pieces (and a healthy thirty points) for himself. Now, it was on to the winner’s circle.

***

Remus and Tadgh stood over the board, facing each other - their trigger fingers itching. The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Housemates waited on bated breath – even some of the older kids had taken an interest. This wasn’t just an end-of-term Gobstones match now, this was a matter of honour.

Remus kissed his last marble, before holding it to the board with his index finger. He had fourteen out of fifteen of Tadgh’s stones, but if he fumbled this, his piece would almost certainly be caught.

“I c-can’t look!” Squeaked Peter, covering his face with his hands (only to peek through his fingers a moment later.) 

“Pull yourself together, Pete.” Growled Sirius, hunkered over, his steel grey eyes focused on the game. “Be strong for your comrade.”

“You’ve got this, Remus, don’t let these buffoons distract you…only five more points for a draw, but you can take him! Attack from the left.” Whispered Lily, her competitive nature shining through the glint in her wild green eyes. Her red hair was piled high on her head, in a very messy bun, from which her wand and a discarded quill stuck out like chopsticks. Verity was worried that, if she touched her, she may very well explode.

“Is she like this with Quidditch, too?”

“Worse.” Replied James, with a boyish smirk. Lily swatted at him, glowering, without taking her eyes off the stones.

A look across the table showed Tadgh receiving similar treatment. Roland and Ken stood sentinel at either shoulder, muttering and pointing vaguely in the direction of the pieces. Basil still had a case of the grumps, however, and was staring pointedly in to the fire - like a Grand Master, who had lost it all on the International Chess circuit to a cocky novice.

“Come on now, boyo.” Taunted Tadgh, playfully. “If ye could make a move this century, that’d be grand.”

“You won’t be chatting dung in a minute, when he wipes the board with you.” Sirius’ smirk spoke volumes, as he sat back comfortably in his seat.

“Wind yer neck in, you melter – he knows he’s already lost.”

“Trying to psyche him out, McCarthy? Good luck, my boy’s made of pure, solid gold. He’s made of strong stuff.”

“That’s…that’s a really soft metal, Sirius.”

“Now is _not_ the time, Evans.”

Taking a steadying breath to block out the din, Remus exhaled, and applied pressure.

It skipped over the first ring, and skittered to a stop in the centre circle. It brushed Tadgh’s silver piece so delicately, that a blink would have missed it. Luckily, Lily and Sirius were far too engrossed to let that happen.

“Lupin wins!” Hollered Sirius, jumping to his feet with his arms in the air. 

Lily let loose an ear-splitting shriek, stomping her feet and throwing her arms around Remus, who seemed utterly perplexed. Chandni and Marlene threw themselves in to the mix, popping bottles of Merry Cherry soda like champagne, while Verity and James dragged Peter in to a victory dance, whooping and cheering as they made laps around the board. Grinning, Tadgh offered Remus his hand, clapping him on the shoulder as they shook.

“No hard feelings, right? I was only messin’.”

“No, it’s alright, I’ve got pretty thick skin.” The two boys exchanged grins, surveying the chaos they had contributed to. “I must admit, that was the most intense match I’ve played…well, ever?”

“Aye, and a brutal defeat it was, too.” Tadgh looked around, before lowering his voice. “You should sign up for the team next term, there aren’t many of us and…Peter is one of our best players. Beating Ravenclaw will be murder without some new blood, they destroyed us this year.”

Stifling a chuckle, Remus nodded, “I’ll look forward to beating you in September, then.”

With a wink, Tadgh was swallowed by the crowd. 

Remus felt two arms close around his waist, and squeeze. A small chin rested on his shoulder, followed by a familiar waft of cinnamon and honey. Verity’s mother made a wonderful hair tonic – it smelled just like Christmas, even in the height of Summer.

“Give the man some room, Vez, he’s a celebrity now!”

James Potter sauntered over, two bottles of glorified cherryade in hand. Verity responded with a rather rude gesture, making Remus smirk. He took the drink from James with a polite nod – he wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled.

Unfortunately, it did not.

“Remus,” Verity giggled, holding him at arm’s length, “you look like you just had a mouthful of Stinksap.”

“How can you drink this stuff? It’s just sugar and food-colouring.”

“No, no – you are mistaken, my friend. It’s sugar, food-colouring, and happiness in a bottle.”

Remus’ eyebrow raised, as he began to search for an ingredients list. “Where did you get this, James?”

“The Prewetts, of course, who else?”

“Isn’t it _brilliant_?” Peter appeared beside them, with a dreamy expression, and a bottle in each hand.

“What’s in it?”

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Lupin.”

“It’s not alcohol, is it?”

“No, no - it’s a fizzy drink imbued with a cheering charm, nothing too exciting...the boys are thinking of selling it at the Hog’s Head, so, we thought we’d test it out on you lovely lot first.” James’ chest puffed out, as a smug grin appeared on his face. “ _I_ helped with the recipe.”

“Well, then, I’m definitely not drinking it - I don’t fancy being a guinea pig.” Remus grimaced, as Peter hiccoughed, looking rather dazed.

“You’re too sensible for your own good, you know?”

***

“Damnit!”

“We’ve been here nearly a year, Vez.”

“Well, whose brilliant idea was it to put a trick step in a staircase?”

“The same person who decided to make moving stairs and secret passageways everywhere?”

“It’s like this castle was designed by Peeves.”

Remus and James ignored Verity’s whines of protest, as they hoiked her leg out from the wooden step. They were on the way back to the Common Room, having eaten as much as they could manage at the end-of-term Feast. 

Ravenclaw had won the house cup this year, and Slytherin the Quidditch, so the Gryffindors were fairly disheartened. More than a few disgruntled looks had been thrown at James and Sirius, which they had avoided by staring up at the starry ceiling, and whistling out of tune. The Prewett brothers and their friend, Patricia, had been subjected to similar treatment.

Nobody, however, was more annoyed than Lily Evans.

“What was the point of me winning all those points, if pound shop Laurel and Hardy over there were just going to lose them?” Scowling, she clambered through the portrait hole, her ears almost as red as her hair.

“Ah, cheer up, Evans! There’s always next year.”

“Yeah, we can turn it in to a competition. Can we be more stupid than you are smart?”

“It’s not a competition if it isn’t challenging, Sirius.”

“OooOoo, well then, we’d best be _extra_ stupid next term.”

“Oh, God, what have I started?”

“Welcome to your nightmare.” Lily rolled her eyes, as James wrung his hands and cackled ominously.

As Verity went to go up the boys’ staircase, she felt two sets of arms grip her from behind.

“Oh no you don’t, missy. It’s the last night of term, you’re spending it with us.”

Remus gave a half-smile, shrugging his shoulder as she was dragged away by Chandni and Marlene.

“See you at breakfast, then?” He called, watching as she disappeared through the stone archway opposite.

“I’ll meet you in the common room! Sweet dreams!”

***

At ten to twelve, the girls donned their dressing gowns and slippers.

“Shhh!”

“Sorry!” Chandni whispered. Her lips twitched from the effort of suppressing her giggles.

“Hold it together, Noor, or we’ll never make it to the kitchen!” Lily turned, her wand tip blinding them in the dark. Verity felt as though she had been poked in both eyes.

“Watch where you’re pointing that, Lillers! I’m seeing stars now.”

“Pssh, that’s ridiculous – I’m the only star in _this_ room.”

Lily groaned, her head flopping forwards in defeat. “Go away, Potter.”

“Sneaking out, are we?”

“No.”

“That was really convincing, you’re getting better.”

“Shut up.”

“If you’re going to the kitchens, you’re in for a treat – it’s me, I’m the treat. The other three are just stocking fillers.”

“Well then, I may as well go back to bed.”

“Rude!”

“Come on, Lils, we’re starving.” Verity pouted. Remus shot her a grin, which she returned with a hundred-watt smile. It looked as though they would be spending their last evening together, after all.

“Yeah, please Lily? Our night doesn’t have to be over, just because these buffoons are there.”

“I take offence to that!”

“Not you, Peter – you and Remus are always welcome.”

“Ha!”

“Shove it, Pettigrew – they’re only saying that because you’re wet.”

Peter blew a raspberry at Sirius, before sidling over to the girls and flipping him the bird.

“Any minute now, Mallory or one of the other prefects is going to come down and catch us. Are we going, or what?” James crossed his arms, looking between the group and the portrait hole.

“Fine. Fine! Let’s go – I feel like I’m having déjà vu.”

“Deja who?”

“It’s French, you uncultured swine.”

***

The kitchen was full of chatter and laughter, as the children reminisced on their first year at Hogwarts. Lily nursed a cup of pumpkin ice tea in both hands, her rosy lips curved in to a smile, as Marlene beat Sirius in a thumb war – for the third time that evening. Reluctantly, he slid over five chocolate galleons, which she snatched in triumph.

“Are we definitely meeting up over the holidays?” Asked Chandni, nabbing another lavender shortcake from the platter in front of her.

“Yeah, of course. We’ve been stuck together all year, not sure I could go two months without seeing your gorgeous faces.”

“Aw, thanks James.”

“Not you, Peter.”

“Yeah, he was specifically talking to me.”

“So modest, Siri.” Verity chuckled, not taking her eyes off the wizard’s chess board in front of her. She was losing spectacularly, but she’d be damned if she went down without a fight.

“You could say he’s Siriusly humble.”

“Siriusly delusional, more like.”

“Ah, Lily – didn’t your mother ever tell you? If you have nothing nice to say, shut up.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s how the phrase goes, Sirius.” Remus’ lips quirked in to a wry smile, taking Verity’s bishop with a graceful flick of his wrist.

“Guys, stay on topic, please.” Chandni’s exasperation was marred by her inability to fight a smile. “Are we meeting at your house, James?”

“Yeah, I think so. How come?”

“…are any girls willing to host? My parents will pitch a fit if they think I’m staying at a boy’s house.”

“Just tell them you’re staying at mine, I’ll ask mum to come and pick you up.”

“Are you sure? Won’t your mum be upset if I lie to my parents?”

“Well, yeah, but we won’t tell her that part.”

“What could go wrong, eh?” The two girls exchanged looks, before bursting in to a fit of giggles. 

“So, when shall we-“

A creak behind them cut Chandni short. Swivelling in their seats, they gasped – it was Professor Lockett. The girl elbowed Verity painfully in the ribs, who seemed to have shut down. A nervous laughter escaped her lips, as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh! Uhh, hello Russell, fancy seeing you here.”

“I’ll pretend, just this once, that I am selectively blind.” He strolled towards the top table, Daily Prophet in hand, with a heavy robe swirling around his fluffy loafers – Verity had never seen him in a robe before. Funny, whilst most wizards seemed to hide their muggle heritage, Russell seemed to defiantly embrace his. “Is the ice tea any good?”

“Yes, sir – very refreshing.”

“Please, Lily, call me Russ. For tonight, this isn’t the school kitchens, and you are not ‘students out of bed’. I’d hate to give you all detentions on your last day.”

“Is that even possible, sir?”

“Of course – they would carry over to next term.”

“Start off the new year with a bang, eh?”

“Don’t push it, James.”

Binnie shuffled over to Russ’ seat, smiling sweetly. “Would Sir like cheese on toasties and some ice tea?”

“Yes please, Binnie – sounds lovely, thank you.”

As the elf busied herself at the grill, Russell abandoned his newspaper, and ambled over to Verity and Remus.

“I see chess isn’t your strong suit, Vez.”

“Bore off, Russ.”

“Remus is destroying you.”

“I am indeed.”

“I hate both of you.”

Clocks ticked, and cookers hummed, mixing in with the various voices of their friends. At this point, Verity’s army was mostly pawns.

“After this game, would you mind if I borrowed Remus for a bit?”

“No, please – take him away. I need to nurse my wounds.”

“Have I done something wrong, Professor?”

“Not at all, Remus – for the record, you have been a model student so far, this small blip aside.” With a wink, Russell set off in the direction of James, Sirius, and Peter, who were attempting to build a tower out of the shortbread.

“Ugh, you win, I resign.” Grumbled Verity, sticking out her hand as her Queen was annihilated by a particularly violent Rook.

“Such a good sport, you are.”

“ _Such a good sport_ \- go away, let me keep at least some of my dignity.”

Smirking, he tapped Russell on the shoulder, the two of them disappeared through the portrait of the pear.

***

Remus was nervous. He could feel his heart fluttering in his chest - a sail in the wind. Goose pimples washed over his arms like a low tide, and his hands were slick with sweat. This, in turn, made the pockets of his dressing gown damp – all in all, a truly uncomfortable experience. His teacher walked a few feet ahead of him, trying and failing to make small talk. All Remus wanted to know, was what was going on?

Had he failed his Defence Against the Dark Arts exam? Or, was it something more sinister?

Had someone found out about the encounter in the shack?

Was he finally being expelled?

Showing him in to an empty classroom, Russell smiled kindly.

“So, how have you been getting on?”

Remus was taken by surprise. Is this really what he wanted to talk about? Clearly not. “Um, not too bad, thank you.”

“You’ve made a great start this year, mate. You’ve excelled in almost all your classes, and you’ve got a cracking group of friends there.”

“Thank you?” If Remus had to pick one word to describe his feelings, he would have chosen: confused.

“Firstly, I haven’t had a chance to apologise about our lesson on werewolves.”

“Oh! Uh, that’s alright –“

“It isn’t alright, Remus. You never should have been subjected to that, it was cruel.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve heard the stigma surrounding my…problem, Professor.”

“I should have intervened sooner – it’s very difficult as a teacher, you know, trying to make sure everyone has a voice." Russell grimaced, before falling silent. He seemed to be mulling something over. "...I think Verity did a bang-up job defending you, though.”

“ Oh, that wasn't for me. She doesn’t, um, _know_.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t know, that I'm...I'm a _werewolf_ – and, I don’t want her to. Ever.”

Russell’s green eyes searched the face in front of him, the face that told so many agonising stories.

“Are you sure? It would be good for you, to have someone to talk to.”

“I’m sure.” Not wishing to discuss the matter further, Remus added, “Was there anything else, Professor?”

“Ah, yes. I found this fascinating book about werewolves – thought you might like it. It’s got a bit of everything in there. Origins, habits, pack hierarchy, mating and reproduction – it’s a real page-turner.” Ignoring Remus’ blush, he powered on. “There isn’t a lot of accurate reading material on your kind, unfortunately, but this has been signed off by Scamander himself - it’s about as factual as it gets. If you want it, I’ll leave it with Fenella. She can drop it off with your next batch.”

Nodding, Remus smiled, failing to suppress the creeping feeling across his skin. He appreciated the gesture, but the very thought repulsed him. Why would he waste any time reading up on those awful creatures? He wanted nothing to do with them - it wasn't his fault he'd been bitten.

“Thanks, Russell. I’m sure my parents would like to have a look at it.” If Russ noticed the tactical diversion, he didn’t mention it.

“Great! I’d best let you get back to your friends. Oh, before you go –“ Remus stopped in his tracks, turning back on his heel. “How’s Verity doing?”

“As well as can be expected – I don’t think she’s sleeping much, though.”

“There’s definitely something 'off' about those dreams.”

Remus pondered for a moment, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Do you think they’re…real?”

“I do.”

“Right.” An uncomfortable feeling welled inside him – the hairs on the back of his neck reacted accordingly. “Will she be safe?”

“Aye – she’s got better security than the Queen. She’ll be reet, don’t you worry. Plus, she’s got me, hasn’t she?”

With a wink, Russell showed Remus back through the portrait hole. Grabbing his toastie from the closest table, he tucked his newspaper under his arm, and bid Remus goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWWWWN *off-key kazoo*
> 
> Hey hey, I'm back, sorry to leave you all hanging like that! How's everyone been?
> 
> This chapter was incredibly difficult to write - my executive dysfunction kicked my arse and decided to give me one helluva writer's block. Being so close to the end, quite frankly, made me shut down. _Especially_ because this is, for all intents and purposes, a filler chapter. The good news is, the last chapter is practically already written in my head, so 🤷🏼 it shouldn't take too long.
> 
> Sorry this is so incredibly long, but, in a way, I'm making up for leaving you all with 0 content for so long. Merry Christmas, you gorgeous witches!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated - kudos and comments are like manna from heaven, and I am hungry. Lemme know what you think!
> 
> Love always,
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> Shout-out to [carloabay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay) for sticking with me throughout this entire journey! You have helped me much more than you'll ever know, and I'm forever grateful. Go read her fics! They are absolutely brilliant ♥


	21. The Storm - Part 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the final chapter. Hold onto your hats, folks, it's about to get hairy.
> 
> OH NO, I AM AN IDIOT. I missed out a whole portion of this chapter at the bottom!! It's there now, sorry for the confusion.

“Oi, babe, over here!”

Verity’s head whipped left, then right, searching for her father along the platform. A grin spread across her face, as she spotted John, Lyall, and Francesca’s father, Frederick, waving frantically at her. Hope and Ffion, with her tiny entourage, exchanged exasperated smiles.

“One minute, dad - Remus, Franny, we’re this way!” Turning to James and Sirius, she wrapped her arms around them both, giving them a short squeeze. “You boys be good, y’hear?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Of course, what do you take us for?”

“Pure anarchy in human form?”

“Yeah…yeah, actually, she’s not wrong.” Sirius’ silvery eyes danced with mirth, as he ruffled the top of her head. “Have a little faith, though, Trudy. I want to make a good impression on Mister and Mrs P.”

“Oh, aye? I thought ol’ Wally was collecting you?”

“Managed to convince mumsy to let me spend the week with James.” Clearing his throat, his voice rose a few octaves as he said, “They’re from good stock, you know. A strong, _pureblood_ line. Maybe this ‘James’ is a good influence on you.”

Verity had never seen him look quite so pleased with himself – which was a feat in itself, as Sirius was mostly fuelled by pride. James snorted, offering his friend a high five.

“She hasn’t met him yet, though, has she? I’m sure she’ll change her mind.” Giggling as the boys began to protest, Verity turned and waved at Chandni, as she disappeared through the wall with her family. 

Franny was writing her address down on a scrap of parchment for Lily, while Severus loomed over the red head’s shoulder with a sour expression.

“Remember, keep Ethel with you until you’ve finished your letter, or you won’t be able to send one back!” 

“Yes, yes – alright, mum.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to keep in touch!” The girls cackled between themselves, sharing a warm embrace. Severus rolled his eyes, his arms folded across his chest, which earned an eye-roll from Franny.

“Has anyone seen Peter? Or Cassie?”

“They’ve both left – Peter’s mum was roaring, bless her. Never seen her without that hankie in her hand.”

“If Peter was my son, I’d cry a lot, too.”

“Sirius!”

“What? We were all thinking it!” 

Verity stuck out her tongue, which Sirius returned with a smirk. Effie and Monty had joined the throng waiting for them near the wall, and were exchanging pleasantries.

“Come on, you lot, I want to get home.”

Dragging various trunks and travel cages, they hobbled towards the open arms of their parents. Lily and Severus trailed behind, eyes darting through the sea of people that churned around them.

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon, Sev.” Lily muttered, taking his hand gently in hers. A small smile crept on to the boy’s face, his shoulders dropping an inch or two from his ears.

“There she is!” John Wilde was ready for his infamous bear hug, as he picked his daughter off the ground, ignoring her strangled yelp. “How was school? Learn any new tricks?”

“Yeah – I can turn you into a toad now, wanna see?”

“Ha ha, very funny. I think I’ll pass, thanks, love.”

Verity’s teeth gleamed in the summer sun, as she flashed him a cheeky grin.

“Lily? Lily, is that – is that you?” A blonde woman stood on tip toe, peering towards the group. Her face bore very similar features to her daughter – the same angular cheekbones, perky nose, and vibrant green eyes. She bustled towards them, her smile widening, as she tugged a rather sulky looking girl behind her. Verity felt Lily stiffen, and Severus’ shoulders leapt up towards his ears once more.

Petunia. Verity had heard a lot of things about Lily’s sister, and unfortunately, none of them had been pleasant.

“I’m so sorry we’re late, _someone_ didn’t want to get out of the car.” She gave her eldest daughter a pointed look, as she turned her nose in the air and rolled her blue eyes skywards. They were not vibrant and wild like Lily’s – rather, cold and wet, like a puddle on an icy road.

“That’s alright, mum. Shall we get going? I think everyone’s ready to leave.”

“Shall we do some quick introductions first? I haven’t met your friends yet, you’ve been hiding them from me!” Lily’s embarrassment was evident, as a rosy blush raced up her neck. Her mother, however, chose to ignore it. “Lily’s told me all about you, though.”

“Well, I’m Verity, and this is Remus. That’s Franny, and, well, you don’t need to know those two.”

“Oi!”

“Rude.”

Mrs Evans chuckled, eyeing up James and Sirius with a knowing smile, as Monty gave Verity a wink.

“I take it you’re the two trouble-makers? Which one of you is James?”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Evans.” James stepped forwards, hand out-stretched. “Whatever Lily’s told you, it’s not true. We’re model students.”

“Oh, of course, I believe you. Lily mentioned something about a party this Summer? Will your parents be there?” Scoffing, Lily started to drag on her mother’s hand as the woman began to laugh. “Hold on, poppet – this is important.”

“Not to worry, Mrs Evans – Effie and I will be there to supervise. There’ll be no tomfoolery under our roof.” From the corner of her eye, Verity caught James failing to suppress a giggle – if there was any tomfoolery, Monty would be leading the parade.

“Wonderful. We’ll be in touch to iron out the details! Petunia, dear - aren’t you going to say hello to everyone?”

The slight, blonde girl narrowed her eyes, disgust dripping from every pore as she managed the word, “Hello.” Her lip curled up on one side in a pointed sneer. Clearly, she had no interest whatsoever in playing nice.

Mrs Evans cleared her throat – this time, it was she who was embarrassed.

“Right. Yes, well – I’m Rosie. It really was lovely to meet you all, but we’d best be off – don’t want to get stuck in here!” 

Lily gave a feeble wave over her shoulder - her watery eyes and ruddy cheeks hidden behind her hair. Verity wondered what Petunia's problem was - she couldn't believe that the two sisters had ever been close. She gave Snape a polite nod, and watched as he swooped through the wall after them.

Remus broke away from his mother, his cheeks flushed, as he pulled Verity in to a hug.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Verity mumbled into his shoulder, the wool tickling her crinkled nose.

“Of course. Need to make sure you’re staying out of trouble, don’t I?”

The girl laughed, shaking her head, “I thought that’s what the locket was for?”

“Well, yeah – but, better to be safe than sorry, eh?” He threw her a wink, his lips turning up at the corners.

“We’ll arrange a sleepover, if you like? I know we’re all meeting up at James’ in a few weeks, but it’s going to be weird not seeing you every day.”

Remus scratched the back of his neck, a forced smile stretching his lips, but missing his eyes entirely. “I think my parents and I are going on holiday around the 10th, but I’m sure we’ll be able to arrange something.”

Verity’s stomach did a somersault, as she fought to keep her expression neutral. Was the 10th a full moon? She made a mental note to check later. 

Hope smiled at her, as Lyall and her father got lost in conversation. “I’ll arrange something with your mum, dear. We’re well overdue a catch up! How is she?”

“She’s good, thanks, Mrs Lupin. I’m sure she’d love a Floo call and a cuppa, if you get the chance!”

“I’m sure I can squeeze her in.” Hope winked, looking very much like her son, as she curled an arm around his shoulders. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Remus waved at Fran, before being accosted by James and Sirius.

“Don’t leave us, Lupin - you’re our voice of reason!”

“Yeah, how does Verity expect us to be good if you leave us to our own devices?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage, chaps. Just think, ‘what would Remus do?’, and then don’t do the exact opposite.” 

Sirius’ laughter rang along the platform, as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll keep that in mind, mate. If you see Verity this week, you should give James and I a Floo! We can make plans for the big reunion!”

Effie beamed, patting Verity on the shoulder. “If you and Remus want to pop round for a game of Quidditch, let us know - I’ll make extra dinner.”

“Thanks, Effie! See you over the holidays!”

“See you soon, darling.”

***

As Verity and John waddled their way through King’s Cross Station, the girl turned to her father and grinned. She had really missed him this term.

“I thought mum was picking me up?”

“Mum’s in a meeting, so you’ve got me today.”

“…did you bring the submarine?”

“Of _course_ I brought the submarine.”

Verity laughed, a buzz of excitement whizzing up her arms. She absolutely adored her dad’s car. A sunshine yellow Volkswagen Beetle, his pride and joy - named after one of his favourite Beatles songs. When she was small, Verity and her father would sit on his driveway and pretend that it really was a submarine, and go on adventures like Captain Nemo in ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.’

She remembered the cool feeling of the tawny leather under her skin, and having to peel herself off of it on hot summer days. The smell from her father’s cherry air freshener, swinging from the rear-view mirror, as they drove into the horizon. The worried chuntering noise it made, when her father pushed it a little past its limits. She could imagine every inch of it – right down to the teardrop stain on the back seat. That stain haunted her father – to this day, he had no idea how it got there, and no idea how to get it out.

They’d made lots of memories in that car, and many ‘firsts’ – day trips to the beach, and to Scarborough Fair. Their weekend in the Peak District, and hiking up to Pannier’s Pool. Driving back from rock concerts held in dingy little pubs, where she was so tiny, that her father had to prop her up on four upturned pint glasses to see the stage. Her first day of primary school had been a total shambles, and John had picked up a snotty, swollen-eyed child from the playground. Kids can be cruel, sometimes – especially to the one who spent most of her time ‘chasing fairies’ in the forest. She’d pounded her little feet against his dashboard, and hollered until she felt sick, that she was ‘NEVER, EVER GOING BACK. NEVER!’ 

Now, she was ending her first year at Hogwarts – it seemed fitting, that it was the little yellow submarine driving her home.

Verity stowed her luggage awkwardly across the back seat, and hopped in, holding Hibou on her lap.

“Are we going to Thistle Hall?”

“No, babe, I’m taking you home.”

“That’s good. I haven’t been home in a while.”

***

It was dark by the time they reached the little town outside the forest – it was a five hour drive from the station, broken up by bathroom breaks and games of Eye Spy. They’d had a natter about school, and homework, and new spells Verity had learnt. John waffled about projects he’d been working on, outside of his day job, and a new business venture he was taking up with his friends. Verity didn’t understand much of it, but it sounded very impressive.

As they trudged through the trees, a peaceful silence descended, punctured only by the thud of Verity’s trunk, or the occasional chitter of local wildlife. Dipping into the valley, a swathe of blue smoke appeared through the gloom, followed by the ramshackle silhouette of Foxglove Cottage.

Tramping up the garden path, Verity’s heart was singing. A comforting song, of the familiar smells of her kitchen, the old, squashy sofa in her living room, and the soft, springy mattress of her childhood bed. The front door began to creak open, a slither of light illuminating her face, as she was greeted by her mother.

“Oh, Vez, you look exhausted!”

Cracking a weak smile, she fell in to a cosy embrace, swathed in her mother’s velvet robes. John sidled in behind them, dropping Verity’s luggage at the foot of the stairs. Hibou began to screech, batting her wings against the bars of the travel cage.

“Alright, alright – no need to shout.” He chuckled, as he set her free. With a disgruntled hoot, she flew out into the darkness, on her first hunt of the Summer.

“Long drive?” Asked Fenella, as she bustled towards the kettle. Her fluffy slippers slapped the floor, as she began summoning mugs from the cabinets.

“A good few hours – but, the traffic wasn’t too bad, so I can’t complain.” Sighed John, as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?”

“A coffee would be grand, thanks, Nell.”

Verity wavered where she stood, exhaustion hitting her like a particularly heavy bludger. Her father chuckled, giving her a knowing smile.

“You should probably go and get into your pj’s, Verity. It’s well past your bed time.”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, the little girl made for the stairs, her eyelids drooping with every step.

***

Verity didn’t even realise she had fallen asleep. She must have done, however, as she was awoken to a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was not quite right. 

Bleary-eyed, Verity fumbled for her glasses, which had fallen in-between her pillow and her bedroom wall. The clock on the far side read almost midnight. A minute to, give or take. Verity fingered the locket that hung around her neck, before cracking it open. Remus waved up at her, a sheepish grin on her face – easing her nerves. She could hear her mother and father’s muffled laughter from the kitchen, and was about to settle back down, when every ounce of drowsiness was blasted from her body by the sound of an air raid siren.

Loud and ominous, it rang through the house like a harbinger of doom – eerie, and terrifying.

Oh no. _Oh no._

It couldn’t be, could it? Not now. Not _now_.

Shadows danced just out of reach in the locket’s glass surface now, sending a shock of fear up her spine. Fumbling for her wand, she flew out of the door and took the stairs two at a time, skidding across the tiles and into her kitchen.

“Run.”

A look of harrowing recognition crumpled her mother’s face, before the kitchen was bathed in a blinding white light.

BOOM!

The walls squeezed and heaved, and the windows chattered in their frames. Archimedes and Humphrey streaked out of the room, hissing and spitting, like their tails were alight. Dust plumed from the rafters, dancing in the glow, as her father covered his head with his arms. Standing shoulder to shoulder, mother and daughter faced the door, wands raised.

“What happens next, Veri-“

BOOM!

“Jesus Christ!” Roared John, his skin paper white and his eyes ablaze.

Another hit. Verity tried to yell over the noise, but the attacks were coming thick and fast now. Snapshots that had haunted her nights for months were flitting through her mind’s eye, too fast now for her to place.

“VERITY! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?”

“The-the…the tunnel. We need to find the tunnel!” She yelped, sparks emitting from the end of her wand. Fear rattled her bones, her innate power spattering through her veins in a frenzied dance. 

It was real. It was all real.

A knowing look crossed her mother’s face, as she grabbed John by the arm. “Follow me. Quickly, now! We don’t have much time.”

The three moved as one, hurrying to the study that her mother had kept so well-hidden. A voice began to filter through the noise, as Fenella carved a shape into the wall.

“Fenella,” It sung, in a disturbing, sing-song fashion. “Fenella, we know you’re in there! We _know_ what you’re hiding. Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

BOOM!

The door to the study materialised, and Fenella ushered John and Verity inside. An old, cherry wood desk stood pride of place, with a large, open hearth behind it. To the right, stood an old potion’s cabinet. Bits of cloth, bell jars and fancy potions bottles littered the inside, as well as a strange shrunken head. Definitely not human. Above the fireplace, was a tatty old lion’s skin, that had terrified Verity throughout her youth, whenever she’d caught a glimpse of it. In light of the current events, it looked practically docile now.

Muttering a spell under her breath, Verity’s mother twirled her wand, and the fireplace vanished. In its place, was a long, dark tunnel.

“You knew? You knew it was here this whole time?” Verity squeaked, a flash of anger bubbling to the surface.

“Now is not the time, Verity. Get in.”

She knew her mother was right. She dithered, as her father ducked into the crawl space.

“But-but, what about you?”

“What about me? Get in, now.” Her mother gave her a firm push, with a look every parent has mastered. Do _not_ argue with me, young lady.

“I love you, mum.” Verity could feel her throat constrict, as her mother kissed the top of her head, and closed the space between them. Bricks rumbled into place, leaving John and Verity in the dark.

John began to move, clumsily at first, before picking up speed. The tunnel was as narrow as she remembered, but somehow even darker than in her nightmares, making movement awkward and painful. Gravel nipped at her palms and knees, while jutting rock bit at her head and shoulders, throwing her off balance.

“What’s going on, Verity? Is someone attacking the house?” John’s whispered tones carried through the quiet, over the thumping of Verity’s heart.

“I’m not sure. Yes. I think so? I don’t know.”

“Is it something to do with that - that _Voldemort_ your mother warned me about? Is it his…Death Squad?”

Verity cringed – not many people spoke his name anymore. They were too afraid.

“I –“ Verity was cut short, by an inhuman roar, borne from the belly of her mother. She skittered to a stop, swinging her face back over her shoulder. A futile move – she could see nothing in the pitch black that surrounded them. 

It was too quiet, now. Silence had followed that war cry, and Verity’s stomach slithered with nerves. What had happened to her mother? Was she safe?

Was she dead?

They rounded a corner, and a slither of light appeared in front of them. As they drew closer, snippets of noise began to leak. Muffled, but there nonetheless. The fight was still going strong. Comforting, in a way – their enemies had to be fighting someone, didn’t they?

Tentatively, she spoke, wincing as something sharp pierced her pyjama bottoms. “Dad?”

“Keep going, Verity. Don’t stop – don’t look back.”

It was like having déjà vu. The sounds of battle were becoming louder with each shuffled movement, and Verity urged herself forward, squeezing around her father to open the trap door. Clambering carefully upwards, she was met with the familiar sight – the hollow in the old oak tree. As she spun around, her eyes caught the colours dancing just out of reach, and a symphony of offensive spell-work played through the forest. This was no duel, though. This was an ambush. In her head, Verity began to count the cracks she had heard in her dream, trying to drown out the cackling of a particularly malicious witch.

“You can’t hold us off forever, Fenella! Hand it over, and we might let you and your dirty little spawn live!”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. _Seven_.

Seven on one. They were all going to die.

Ramming her hand into the pocket of her dressing gown, she struggled with her wand, before yanking it free. 

“Stay behind me.” She whispered, holding the thin piece of wood in front of her with trembling hands. She may not know many spells, but she’d die before she let them hurt her father.

Her toes were blue, and she cursed Merlin for letting her leave the house without her slippers. Her shoulders shook with cold, as she tried to cover herself with her robe. The gunpowder-like smell was making her nose burn, and her heart began to race as the sound of Foxglove Cottage’s last hurrah rung in her ears. A resounding crack, followed by another boom, told her that they had breached the front door.

Verity’s fight or flight kicked in, looking for an escape route. Unfortunately, that came in the form of that sinister golden line, tracing across the bark in front of her.

Flattening herself over her father, her ribs felt as though they were about to burst through her flesh. A sickness flushed over Verity’s skin - cold sweat and nausea. Her grip tightened around the one weapon she owned, and she braced herself, ready for a fight.

“PROTEGO!” She squealed, as the wall between the two worlds collapsed.

She heard John’s sharp intake of breath, watching the dome explode from the tip of his daughter’s wand, and cloak them in pulsing light.

“Finite!” The familiar voice of Russell Lockett whispered, before he poked his head inside, his face taut with worry.

“Russell?” Verity’s heart stopped for all but a second. “Russell, they’ve got mum! They’re in the house! It’s happening, it’s happening right NOW!” She shrieked, scrabbling to her feet as she tried to push past him.

“We know - it’s alright, Vez, we’re here to help. John, go to the Falls, we’ll send for you when its safe.”

“NO!” Bellowed the girl, so small and frail. Her robes whipped around her, carried on the breeze, as she faced the familiar (and unfamiliar) faces of her mother’s organization. The elusive ‘Order’.

Amongst the faces she recognised, there was Russell, Alastor, Abe, Barnabas, Algie…and,

“Peggy?”

“It’s alright, my love. We’re here now. Yer safe.”

“I want to help you!”

“Run along now, there’s a good lass. This is nae fight for a wee bairn.” As Verity dithered, Peggy’s face hardened – a look her niece was not used to. “Now, Verity! You’re wasting time.”

With one last look over her shoulder, Verity and her father took off into the night.

***

Dry leaves crackled under her feet, as she tore through the woods towards Cauldron Falls. She could hear the thudding footfalls of her father close behind, his breathing loud and erratic.

That cold, villainous laughter seemed to follow her everywhere. She tried to block it out, scrunching her eyes shut as her feet carried her on auto-pilot. A rustling to her left caught her attention, before a masked figure burst through the brush, a white mask glinting under the moonlight.

“STUPEFY!” It snarled, and a red string of light ricocheted off of the trees to their right.

“Kill the muggle, spare the child! We can use her as leverage!” A melodic, odorous voice sang through the night, followed by shrieks of laughter.

“AVADA KED-OOF!“ Archimedes barrelled out of the undergrowth, fangs bared. The Death Eater on their tail began to scream, as the feline ripped and clawed, yowling and hissing as they fumbled on the ground. Verity squealed, watching her cat sink its teeth into soft flesh, a spurt of blood dousing the patch of creamy fur like an oil slick.

“Archie, leave him!”

The Death Eater struggled, as he gurgled helplessly in a heap on the ground. Padding up beside her, Archimedes nudged Verity’s hand with his crown, before sprinting ahead. Kneazles were known for being fiercely loyal – she hadn’t realise quite how fierce he could be.

As her father turned to give chase, an emerald green glow bathed the woodland around them,

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Followed by her mother’s blood-curdling scream.

“NO! No, no, not my mum! Please – not mum!” Verity felt her heart shatter - the pain an extension of herself, piercing the quiet. John’s face fell, forming a grim mask, as he grabbed his daughter…and started to drag. “No-NO! Stop, we need to go back. _We need to go back_!”

“My job is to keep you safe, Verity. I’m sorry. _I’m so sorry_.”

“MUM WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU!” She roared, hateful things building inside her chest like dragonfire. How could he do this? How could he walk away? Kicking and flailing, she continued to rage as her father tightened his grip. He was like a tank – he barely flinched, as her tiny fists pummelled into his back. “I WOULDN’T LEAVE YOU. I THOUGHT IT WAS FOR YOU. I THOUGHT THEY WERE COMING FOR YOU, AND NOW SHE’S DEAD! LET…ME…GO!”

“Verity, please!”

“SHE DIED TO SAVE YOU, YOU COWARD!”

“Verity, that’s _enough_.” Squaring her shoulders, he shook her lightly and looked into her eyes. “Your mother is a strong woman, I have every faith in her, but you are drawing unwanted attention and we need to hide.” John spoke through gritted teeth - fear, and concern, broiling just under the surface.

Verity fell silent, except for the sobs heaving inside her chest. Scowling, she allowed herself to be pulled away, but she felt as though a part of her had been left behind.

The pair marched on, senses on high alert. The hooting and jeering grew quieter, until the sound of their footsteps was covered by the thundering of the falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verity's dreams are coming true, and she's powerless to stop them.  
> Death has come a'knocking, but who will it be that answers the call?  
> Watch this space, part two will be out shortly!
> 
> Comments and kudos are extremely welcome here - I'd love to know what you all think!
> 
> L♥ xx
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me. I've been having a lot of trouble finishing this book, as the ending has been an emotional rollercoaster I did _not_ want to ride 😅Sorry in advance if you cry as much as I did, it's kinda my intention, but it had to be done!


	22. The Storm - Part 2.

Verity checked her watch again. Ten past one – they had been here nearly an hour now, waiting. Her feet itched to run, as she rolled her wand between her fingertips. Her knees burned as she shifted her weight, but she dared not move – she might give away their location. From behind her, she heard the familiar snap of a twig, as her father mimicked her movements.

“Sorry.”

His voice faded into the quiet, reminding Verity that the battle was over. The silence was unnerving – even the animals had settled down, now. The only noise she could hear was her heart, hammering inside her chest like a bass drum. She felt a familiar lump rise in the back of her throat, squeezing painfully as her eyes began to water. Why had no one come for them? Why hadn’t they let them know it was safe?

A thought crossed her mind, making her chest constrict. She knew which part of the dream this was. Verity squinted through the thick foliage, making sure they were alone.

“Dad? Dad, we need to get behind the waterfall.”

John gave her a puzzled look, as she regarded him over her shoulder. Her mouth was set in a grim line, and she looked much older than her years. There was a seriousness in her eyes that was completely out of character.

“Behind the Falls? I don’t think there’s –“

“There’s a cave. Mum told me about it when I was little – it used to be a meeting place for local witches.”

Recognition dawned on John’s face, “ _Cauldron_ Falls. Right, yeah, of course it was.”

John was still getting used to the wizarding world being hidden in plain sight. For eleven years, he had known of its existence, but not realised how intricately it was weaved within his own. 

Scowling into the dark, worry knitted deep grooves into his skin.

“How do we know that there aren’t some of them in there, waiting for us?”

“We don’t.” 

“Verity!” Her father hissed, as she started to creep in the direction of the pool. He let out a groan, as his knees crunched and popped – his old injury protesting as he creaked after her.

Wand raised, she appeared from the brush, and darted towards the rock face.  
***

Slipping through the opening in the cliff, the tunnel opened out into a cavern. Sconces lined the walls, lit only by a slither of natural light. 

“Incendio.”

The light from the flames flickered off of the pooling waters, bubbling gently in the centre. A steady drip from the stalactites above broke up the sound of their laboured breathing, as they ventured further into the cave. A flat, stone bench had been carved from the bedrock, a half-moon that gave a perfect view of the raised podium on the far side. 

Verity could feel an ancient magic pulse in her veins – the room itself held centuries of memory, every inch of rock hummed with power. It was overwhelming. Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the room, before she felt a tug at her chest. Everywhere she walked, she was drawn to the centre, as if the waters were beckoning her.

She could vaguely hear her father talking, but his words were distant, tickling her ear like a butterfly in the breeze. The pull was too strong to ignore, as she felt her feet carry her to the water’s edge. Dropping to her knees, she peered beneath the rippling blue. Dark, but clear, she could make out the shape of something golden teetering in the current. It bobbed lazily against the debris at the bottom of the pool, glinting enticingly. As she stretched her arm towards the surface, she felt a pressure on her shoulder, breaking her focus.

“You alright, love?”

The connection snapped, and her mind cleared.

‘Yeah…yes, sorry. I thought I saw –“ She cast a searching glance over the water, and a pang of annoyance flashed through her as she realised the object had disappeared. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

“I can hear Alastor calling for us.” As John spoke, a silvery Scottish Wildcat appeared at the mouth of the tunnel, giving Verity a steely look before Moody’s gravelled tones filled the grotto.

‘It’s safe, Verity. I’ve come to take you home.”

Blistering anticipation seared her skin, as she jogged towards the retreating ghostly form. John grabbed the top of her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“Don’t worry, dad – nobody could fake a patronus, and I highly doubt anybody could force Alastor to do anything he didn’t want to do.”

Shooting one last glance at the now empty pool, Verity followed the patronus out into the dark.

***

Alastor Moody stood facing the waterfall, his face a gnarled, sombre mask. His wand stood to attention, but his eyes stared, unseeing, into the black. He nodded gravely to the two figures as they emerged from the cliff face, meeting them at the water’s edge.

“Is mum alright?” Verity gasped, her voice thin and strained.

“Yes. Yes, she’s alright. Bit shaken up, but nothing a pepper up won’t fix. Abe and Fleamont are tending to her and the others.”

“Monty? What’s he doing here?”

“It’s all hands on deck. Euphemia is waiting for you at the Potter’s house. This portkey –“

“I’m not going. I want to see my mum.”

“Verity –“

“No. I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe.”

Verity missed the glance that Alastor threw at John, as he put his hand on the small girl’s shoulder.

“I think it might be best if you don’t come back to the house, Verity.”

“Why?”

“There’s…there’s been an incident.”

Green light exploded across her mind’s eye once more, as she felt goosepimples bubble over her flesh. Her teeth clenched, as her head filled with screams. If it wasn’t her mother, then who? 

Without a word, she took off towards the cottage.

“Verity, no!”

“Ahh, let her go, John. She’ll find out one way or the other.”

Her heart ached – a combination of stitch and anxiety, sending vinegar into her blood stream. Bile rose in her throat, hot and bitter, as her feet carried her through the smouldering forest. The steady rhythm of her footsteps drew her focus, ignoring the carnage around her as she pounded quickly towards her home. Minutes felt like hours, but she would not stop. Could not stop. Not until she knew. What had her dream been trying to tell her?

Who had it been trying to save?

Who had she failed to protect?

As she rounded the corner, the burning carcass of her childhood home greeted her like a punch to the chest. Above it, a large, acid green skull was suspended in the night sky – a writhing snake flickering in and out of its ugly maw. She stopped in her tracks, her hand to her mouth. Smoke stung her nose, making her eyes water as she stumbled towards the crowd gathered in the debris of the flower patch. A hesitant sense of calm crept over her. Peggy sat with her mother, who’s head rested on her shoulder as she wept. She was safe. Three masked figures sat off to the side, writhing in eerie silence. Abe tended to Algie, as Monty flitted between members with his old leather satchel, administering potions and elixirs with comforting words and gentle smiles.

A twig snapped under Verity’s foot, causing several heads to swivel towards her.

“Verity!” Fenella croaked, stumbling to her feet. “Verity, you shouldn’t be here.”

The feeling of peace was short-lived. The girl followed her eyeline towards a body on the floor, covered by Alastor’s travelling cloak. A foot had become uncovered, revealing a tan loafer and a slither of burgundy sock, snitches still flittering feebly across the fabric.

No. Not him.

“Russell?” Fenella cringed, as Verity staggered towards the figure. “Russ? This isn’t funny, get up.”

“Verity –“

“Russell?” Gently lifting the cloak from his face, she stared into the clear green eyes of Russell Lockett. Once so vibrant and full of life, they were dull and empty, making Verity’s heart squeeze. Her little hand cupped his cheek, balking at the porcelain chill that spread through her fingertips. “Russell, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please get up, I didn’t mean it.”

‘Verity, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your –“

“If I had listened to you and taken this seriously, he would still be alive.” Her voice was a broken wail, as her hands curled into her chest and she sobbed. Her aunt faltered, her arm falling to her side in defeat. “I could have done something. I could have tried harder! They were trying to tell me something! They were trying to tell me…”

She felt hands try to pull her away, and shrugged them off, hunkering closer to the man she had considered family. The man who swore to protect her against all odds. He looked almost peaceful, staring up into the stars from the forest floor.

“What happened?”

“One of these…reprobates sent a killing curse at your mother. Russell died saving her life.”

Instinctively, her hand reached towards the blackened mark on his sweater, before she sank into a trance.

Curses flew through the air, the sound muffled as though underwater. Death Eaters swarmed the clearing, gaining the upper hand as Fenella parried spells as fast as her wand would allow. A slice of green whistled past her mother’s ear, making Verity scream silently into the void. Her mother spun, fending off the attacker with a paralysing jinx. That split second was enough, as another slice of green barrelled towards her back. Out of the forest, Russell appeared, his mouth open in a roar as he tackled Fenella to the floor. The curse hit him square in the chest, and Verity watched the light leave his eyes as he fell over her mother and lay still. Struggling to free herself, she screamed into the night, as another two curses hit his lifeless body.

Verity didn’t realise it, but she had been screaming, too. The sound filled the forest like an eerie swan-song, all of her pain and melancholy seeping into the bones of the people who heard it. Peggy broke, pulling desperately at her niece’s hand to free her from her nightmare. Fenella gripped her around the waist, and they heaved, falling backwards into a heap, cradling the whimpering girl in their arms.

“This isn’t your fault, True. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. You did everything you could to keep us all safe, just like Russell.” Her mother’s voice whispered soothingly into her ear.

“You tried so hard, my wee girl. Sometimes the universe seems cruel – it shows us things we cannot change, but only so we can prepare. His death wasnae in vain, I’ll tell you that. Russell was a great man, he died to keep your mother safe.”

“It should have been me! Those dreams came to me, I was supposed to protect everyone and I couldn’t! I didn’t want to go, if I had stayed it would be me there instead of him!”

“Don’t think like that, Verity. Russell wouldnae want that, not at all.”

Verity didn’t have the strength to argue. Her head lolled in defeat, away from her mother’s chest, as her heart bled. Catching sight of the three masked figures once more, a torrent of flames rose in her throat.

“Did you catch the person who did it?”

“Aye, Vez – we got the bastard. Don’t you worry, we’ll deal with them back at Head Quarters.” Alastor kicked the booted foot of one of the Death Eaters. It recoiled, trying to shuffle away from the contact.

“I want to see them. I want to look into the eyes of the person who tried to murder my mother – who murdered my friend.”

“Verity –“

“No.” Fenella’s tone was final, but she gravely under-estimated her daughter’s resolve. 

Scrambling to her feet, Verity stalked towards the Death Eater on the floor. As hands flew out to stop her, she cast shield charms and knockback jinxes with cold fury, before stopping short of the delicate boots that adorned the assassin’s feet. Familiar boots.

Ripping the mask off of the face of the prone figure in front of her, Verity squeaked in shock, before her heart broke.

“Wynne. It’s…it’s Wynne.” 

Confusion etched into the woman’s broad features, as Alastor lifted the silencing charm. Her eyes darted between the members of her alliance, clouded in fear and bewilderment.

“Verity? What’s…what’s going on?” She leaned around the slight figure in front of her, before her eyes landed on the body across the clearing.

“Russ?” Her voice broke, much like Verity’s had done, as she started to struggle against her bindings. “Russell? RUSSELL? Is he okay? Why isn’t he answering me? RUSSELL?!” The last word fractured as it left her tongue – hot, fat tears seeping from her deep brown eyes. 

Verity supposed this was her natural form, free of metamorphmagi interruption. Dark, tightly coiled hair undulated as she shook, her face crumpled in agony, as her parched lips parted in a heart-wrenching howl. Her bindings offered her little privacy, and in Verity’s incandescent rage, she did not pity her. She did not pity this spy – this mole, who had so callously cut down the man that she claimed to love.

“How could you?” Verity’s voice was barely a whisper, as her wand hung limp at her side. A forgotten appendage, as she processed this betrayal.

“What?” Wynne managed to croak in-between sobs, her eyes never leaving the form of her late love.

“How could you do this? You tried to kill my mother, and you –“

“I did what?” Perplexity coloured every inch of Wynne’s features, as the racking sobs slowed. “I don’t even know how I got here. I was walking Rodney, and then…”

Alastor stepped forwards, un-masking the other two prisoners. A collective gasp rang through the clearing.

“That’s Maude Albright and Keith Davies, Midlands and South Division.” Murmured Algie, wincing as Monty slathered a salve onto his forearm. Keith’s eyes held a similar look of puzzlement, as opposed to the blank, dazed stare of Maude.

“Imperiused.” Growled Moody, although there was a soft edge to his tone as he looked at Wynne. “I’m sorry, Dixon, but I can’t remove the bindings. Not until we’re sure.”

Hobbling to the side of the house, he returned moments later with a grave expression.

“That’s not one of ours. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say that waste of skin was the one controlling Wynne and Davies.” Bringing a scarred hand down his face, he sighed. “Someone set up transport for Maude to St Mungos, inform the curse ward that they’ve got a hell of a job on their hands.” Turning to Wynne and Keith, he squared his shoulders. ‘You two will be coming with me, to the Ministry.”

“What about the ones that escaped?” Barnabas Longbottom was now at Moody’s side, regarding his former allies with suspicion.

“We’ll set up tracking spells, but they’ll be in the wind now. Not much we can do.” Irritation clipped Moody’s words, as he stumped towards the two witches on the floor.

“Do’ya need us to stick around, Alastor?” Asked Peg, rising gracefully from the floor.

“No, make yourself scarce. Go with Verity and John to the Potter’s. Not you, Fenella.” Her mother nodded, as Moody looked around the gathering crowd. “Monty, you should go with them. Algie, Barney, Abe – you stay with me. The Ministry won’t be suspicious of two Aurors and a qualified healer.”

As the group dispersed, Verity and her father picked their way towards the remnants of the fireplace. Monty followed, helping Peg over the scattered debris. 

Regarding the ruins of the home that had once felt like a peaceful safe haven, a lump rose in the back of the small girl’s throat. Would she ever really feel safe again? 

Amongst the bricks and shattered glass lay her childhood memories, frolicking in the woods for hours on her own without a care in the world. She had faced cave-dwelling dragons, mountain trolls and kelpies in the deepest lakes, and yet, she had never felt unsafe. With her mother at her side, or tucked away in the cottage kitchen, she had felt invincible. The world was her oyster, and she was supping from the shell.

How could she have been so foolish?

The hearth burst into life, as Monty scattered loose powder from his pocket. She barely registered the address leaving her lips, before she spun up through the groaning chimney. Tumbling out of the fireplace, she looked up into the concerned faces of Euphemia, James and Sirius.

“Oh, Verity…Verity, it’s alright darling - let’s get you cleaned up. Boys, help me get her up.” 

James and Sirius took her gently by the hands, and pulled her to her feet. Producing a hankie from his pocket, James offered it to his friend, his eyebrows knitted in concern. She didn’t take it – she couldn’t. Numbness had spread through her body – so much so, that she didn’t even feel the tears sliding silently down her cheeks. Softly, he dabbed at her face, reminding her of the small boy who would hand her stuffed toys when she grazed her knees, whilst being patched up by Nell or Monty on a kitchen table.

“Are you alright, True?”

“They killed him, James.” Verity’s voice was barely audible, as she picked at her trembling fingers.

“Who? Oh Merlin, not…not your dad?”

“No…no, Russell. The Death Eaters killed Russell.”

“Professor Lockett? What was he doing there?”

“He was trying to protect my mum, and they murdered him. I couldn’t – I couldn’t stop them. I tried though, James, I promise – I really tried.”

James wrapped Verity in a tight embrace, as the colour drained from Sirius’ skin like sand through an hour glass. He ducked his head, hiding his expression behind a sheath of dark hair, as they moved towards the living room. Verity heard the fireplace crackle and die twice more as she sat, drowning in the quiet. She was relieved when nobody pressed her for answers – she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold her composure.

The adults talked until the early dawn, leaving the three children to a restless sleep. The boys never left her side, remaining as close as humanly possible – a dog-pile of limbs and softly snoring chests.

Verity took shallow breaths, unable to look away from the images etched into the vaulted ceiling. Russell, eyes wide and staring – golden flecks of starlight replacing the natural twinkle they once held. The Death Eater, gurgling and choking on his own life source, as he lay twitching on the forest floor. The terror on her mother’s face, as the first blasting charm hit the house.

In one night, Verity had left her childhood behind, as she stared down the cold reality of War. The last golden slither of innocence had been snuffed out, leaving behind a hardened shell. Destiny was calling, and she answered with a snarl,

“Come and get me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story, from start to finish. I truly appreciate each and every one of you ♥ Please let me know what you think! Comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> A huge shout-out to [carloabay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay), who has been my rock, my friend, and my biggest cheerleader on this adventure! I could not have pressed through without your support, and I am eternally grateful. If you haven't already, please go and check out her wonderful series - [Gryffindor's Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772564/chapters/52009126), and [Ravenclaw's Regrets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548006/chapters/64715401). They are two of the best fics I've read on this site, and you'll find yourself falling in love with her characters over and over again, and the wizarding world as she sees it.
> 
> Book 2 will be out at some point over the coming months, but I have learnt not to put a deadline on these things. For now, I am going to take some time to edit this first book, and build the chapters of the second.
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe and healthy!
> 
> Much love from me to you.
> 
> L♥ xx


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